


Champs Elysées

by s4msepiol



Series: | Louis Dega x Reader | [1]
Category: Mr. Robot (TV), Night at the Museum (Movies), Papillon (2018), The Pacific (TV), Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Charlie Hunnam - Freeform, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Masturbation, Prison, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Smut, papillon, rami malek - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-07-24 20:23:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 48,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16182506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s4msepiol/pseuds/s4msepiol
Summary: The very first Louis Dega x Reader fiction.Inspired by Rami Malek in the movie Papillon (2018)You're a young woman of the French aristocracy in the 30's. Your father just died and left you a colossal fortune. You need an accountant and you do not surround yourself with second-bests...





	1. Δphπσδiτε

**Author's Note:**

> ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE, thus please report in the comments any grammar, tense or vocabulary mistakes so that I can correct it asap.
> 
> s4msepiol.  
> no copyright infringement intended

****

**_Louis Point of View_ **

I used to count the passing days on a notebook, when I thought that there was still some hope, I hoped for my wife and our wealthy friends to get me out of there. I lost count when I learned that she had married my lawyer and understood that she had forgotten me the minute the judge declared me guilty. After that, I remember the boat bringing me and 143 other prisoners to French Guiana. Our new home as the warden used to call it. Life there was simple, obey or die, walk or die, work or die. Die or die.

   

I was rich, I used to think that it would get me out of any trouble. Poor me. The only thing my wealth got me was the 142 other prisoners wanting to kill me for my money. I had, however, one friend, Papillon. A thief convicted of a murder he never stopped denying. I had always hated thieves, I know, cynical coming from a forger. After a while, I discovered that we were more alike than I thought, the only difference between us being that I was more of a thinker whereas he was more of a puncher, and in jail, believe me, he had the advantage. Thank god, Papi was there to protect me from the others, not without counterparty of course, but with time I could see that our friendship was genuinely honest.

  

I realized it the day he once again fought against another prisoner to defend me, even if a few hours before that, I had told him that I didn't have any money left. Most of my wealth had been squandered by my ex-wife and my lawyer, the rest by me, paying whoever I needed to pay, to stay alive in that prison. We tried to escape, twice. They always caught us back.

 

I had lost hope, all hope.

  

"I'm going to die here, alone." I said to myself, fighting back tears in my cell.

I snapped out of my dark thoughts at the voice of a guard.

     

"Wake up! Wash yourselves and get dressed! The warden wants every one of you in the big yard in an hour! So, hurry up before I double your working hours." He shouted passing his nightstick on the bars of all the cells.

That was unusual, very unusual, the only time we were asked to go to the big yard was for executions and even when it was the case, they never asked us to wash ourselves for an execution... Someone was coming, someone important.

**_Your Point of View_ **

**__ **

"How are you going to recognize him, Y/N?" Gaspard, my lawyer asked me in the car taking us from the port to the jail.

"I've seen him once, years ago. He's not the kind of man you can forget."

"We are almost there, Mademoiselle." Our driver said after a while.

"Thank you, Bertrand."

**_Louis Point of View_ **

****

We were all waiting in the yard, on our knees under the burning sun. The warden was nervous and took it out on the guards.

"Everything has to be perfect, do you get me?" I heard him say to one of them.

"How you doing?" Papillon asked me, I didn't even notice he was near me.

"What are you doing here?"

"Those idiots are so distracted by whoever is coming that they didn't even notice me switching places with Maturette. So, how you doing?" He asked me.

"Never felt better in my whole life." I answered sarcastically.

 

I had barely finished my sentence that two guards opened the gates to let a car enter the yard. Suddenly, the yard became silent. The car stopped and a man, the driver, got out first and opened one of the back doors. While he was doing so another man got out of the car waiting for the third person to come out. That was when I first saw her.

 

A diamond in a mine of coal.

What such a lady was doing there among murderers, thieves, rapists... I couldn't take my eyes off her as she walked towards the warden Barrot. She handed him a paper and told him something I was unable to hear because of all the prisoners whistling and shouting at her sight.

 

"Animals..." I thought. She was the kind of lady you needed to court for months only for her to grant you a look.

The warden nodded immediately at her demand. He was so nervous, who wouldn't have been in front of such a woman. She was beautiful and by the way the two men travelling with her were standing feet behind her, I supposed that they were working for her.

Mr. Barrot immediately went to one of the guards and asked him to calm us down. In response we were all granted with a punch to the gut.

 

She winced at that sight, grabbed the warden's arm tightly and I could have sworn I heard her threaten him, my intuitions being confirmed by the look on her face. The warden nodded as if she intimated him. He was afraid of her, for some reason.

Once the silent was restored, she got closer to us and started to walk in between the lines we were forming. She was slowly walking and scrutinizing every prisoner's face. The whistles restarted even louder this time. For some reason that irritated me, I wanted to protect her. She continued on her path ignoring the sounds and words of the other prisoners, only focusing on their faces.

 

"My dick is lower, sweetheart." Celier said when she looked at him, making everyone laugh. I held myself from punching him in the said area to teach him some manners. Papillon must have felt it because he gave me a sort of "that's not worth it" look, to dissuade me. She just ignored Celier's remark and went on.

She looked at Maturette and Papillon with the same poker face. She walked toward me, looked at me and suddenly stopped.

 

She looked deep into my eyes. She was beautiful but she looked confused and puzzled. She got closer to me and knelt in front of me, not caring about ruining her expensive dress.

"May I?" She asked me politely with a slight smile. God those lips, I would have died a happy man if I had had the occasion to kiss such a beauty.

 

"Please, do." I answered her, trying to show some decent manners in comparison with the horde of chimpanzees next to me.

She was so close that I could smell her perfume. By the soft and complex notes of dahlia in it I knew it was an expensive perfume probably created by one of the famous perfume houses of Paris. She got even closer, her dress had a small cleavage, thus giving me a privileged view on her breasts, my member twitched at that sight. I gathered my thoughts and didn't look away from her Y/E/C eyes.

She carefully and delicately took my makeshift glasses off and looked at me once again. Everyone around us was silent. She then smirked and put my glasses back in place as delicately as she had taken them off. She got up, whipped the dirt of her dress and turned around. My heart tightened when she walked away. She didn't even bother to look at the prisoners after me. 

She whispered something to the warden who looked at me immediately and showed me to another guard before whispering something to his ear.

 

He nodded and she walked back toward the car with the two men. She was going to get in the car but she stopped:

"And give those men proper clothes and fresh water, they are prisoners not animals." She ordered the warden who once again nodded in response. The car started and left the yard.

"Fuck, who is she?" I said to myself before heading to my chores.

 

**_Your Point of View_ **

****

"His name is Louis Dega, he has been convicted of fraud and counterfeiting three years ago. He holds a degree in economics and accounting from La Sorbonne. He is... sorry was married. He has been sentenced to 15 years of prison." Gaspard explained me, reading the convict's file in the car as we headed back to our hotel.

"Louis Dega..." I repeated, just to hear how it sounded out loud. I couldn't help but smirk at the list of his crimes.

"So, what do we do now Mademoiselle Y/LN?"

"We stick to the plan." I declared looking through the window of the car.

"When?"

"Tomorrow night."

 


	2. Ωπphευs & Συπγδicε

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very first Louis Dega x Reader fiction.  
> Inspired by Rami Malek in the movie Papillon (2018)
> 
> Orpheus (Oρφεύς) bereaved by the death of his one and only love Eurydice (Eὐρυδίκη), decides to descend into hell to beg the gods to return his half. The merciful gods conquered by the beautiful words of Orpheus, accept his demand . But gods know too well that the hardest thing with hell isn’t the descent but the ascent… Will you succeed at getting Louis out of his earthly hell without knowing the same tragic end as the Greek couple?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE, thus please report in the comments any grammar, tense or vocabulary mistakes so that I can correct it asap.
> 
> s4msepiol.  
> no copyright infringement intended

****

**_Your Point of View - The Following Night_ **

The moon was high when Gaspard, Bertrand and I entered the jail. Knowing that a few bills were the only thing keeping those criminals behind bars gave me goosebumps. Once we had paid the guard, he led us to a cell. His cell.

 

Bertrand opened the door, and at first, I didn't see him, until my eyes got used to the darkness of the room, only then I noticed him sleeping against the wall. He seemed peaceful, I smiled at that sight. We only had a few minutes, I was thus forced to interrupt his rest.

 

"Mr. Dega?" I whispered softly. Poor man, the sight of his cell broke my heart but there was no time for pity. We had to be fast.

  

**_Louis Point of View_ **

"Mr. Dega?" I heard her say. We were walking on the Champs Elysees by a winter night, the Eiffel Tower in front of us. Nothing but me, Paris and a beautiful woman on my arm.

"You can call me Louis, mademoiselle." I answered her slightly caressing her cheek. She leant into my hand.

"Mr. Dega?" She repeated, I was confused until she said, "Please wake up."  _Too good to be true._

 

I woke up in that cold, dirty and smelly cell, on the verge of madness. I warmed up at the touch of a delicate hand on my cheek, her hand. It couldn't be real.

"Thank god. Mr. Dega, we don't have much time, please put this on and follow us." She whispered to me with a warm smile.

"What is happening? What are you doing here? Am I still dreaming?" She couldn't be there. How could she?

"Mr. Dega, look around you, do you think this corresponds to the common definition of a dream?" She answered me with a pity smile. She was right, even a nightmare would have been more clement with my mind. I was there and so was she. I would have accepted years in solitary for her to stay by my side a little longer.

"I'm sorry Mademoiselle I don't even know your name..." I admitted.

"Mademoiselle Y/LN, but my friends call me Y/N." Her name reminded me of something, but I couldn't tell what.

"Mr. Dega, wear this, please." She repeated handing me a pile of clean clothes before leaving the cell for me to change.

 

"Where are we going?" I asked confused before she left the room.

"Paris, my dear."

A voice in my head kept repeating me " _this won't work_."; " _this is a bad idea._ " but every cell of my body wanted to follow that woman. I put the clothes she gave me on and I followed her and the two men out toward the stairs. That was when it hit me.

 

Papillon. I couldn't let him there, die there. Not after everything he had done for me. I froze before going down stairs.

"Something wrong Mr. Dega?" The tallest man asked me.

"I can't. I'm sorry. My friend, I can't let him here. I'm sorry Mademoiselle." I apologized knowing that it was probably my ever-last chance to get out of that damn place.

 

"Mademoiselle, I told you he was not reliable. We should leave while we still c..." The other man declared, interrupted by Y/N.

"What's his name?" She asked me, ignoring his remark.

"I... I don't know his real name to be honest Mademoiselle, he goes by the name of Papillon." I stuttered not understanding her point.

"A forger, a lady and a murderer on a boat... that sounds like the worst joke ever." She nodded at the tallest man of the two.

"Y/N, please be careful, you're way smarter than that." The other pleaded her.

"Gaspard, one more word and I swear that I stick you in Mr. Dega's cell, despite all the affection I have for you. Have I made myself clear?" She declared firmly. What a woman.

"Mr. Dega, please show Bertrand your friend's cell."

I didn't think twice and headed to Papillon's cell with Bertrand, we walked fast but silently so as not to wake up the other prisoners.

Once in front of Papi's cell, the man took out of his pocket an old and rusty keyring and opened the cell. I was confused, why were they doing this?

 

I then remembered that Y/N was waiting for us with Gaspard at the other side of the corridor, and the simple idea of her being surrounded by the other prisoners without any guards around, gave me goosebumps. I had to be fast.

"Papi, come on, wake up" I whispered to my friend hoping that it was loud enough to get him out of his torpor.

 

"Dega, what the hell are you doing here? Go back to your cell before they find you here." Papillon answered half asleep, half awake.

"Papi, don't be stupid just... trust me and follow me...we don't have much time." I pleaded him. He became suspicious when he saw Bertrand.

 

"He's with us, please I think they can get us out of here, but you have to trust me on that one." Papi remained silent, weighing pros and cons.

 

"I swear that I'll kill you if I end in solitary because of you." He warned me, before following us.

We got out of the cell and walked as fast as we could to the other side of the corridor where Gaspard and Y/N were waiting for us. We finally reached them.

 

"Follow us." Y/N whispered, before going down stairs followed by Gaspard, Bertrand, Papillon and I.

"I'm not sure to understand what's happening." Papillon whispered to my ear.

"Neither do I, but what do we have to lose?" I was barely convinced by my own words. All of a sudden, Papillon grabbed firmly my arm.

"That's a trap, trust me I don't know what that woman wants from us, but I do know where those stairs lead..." He whispered to me.

"The warden's office..." I said to myself. Shit, it was too good to be true. Why such an angel would help me to get out of hell?

We arrived in front of the warden's office door. We stayed still, for a minute. Y/N was talking with Gaspard, about Papillon obviously.

"When I say 'run' you run." Papi ordered me.

 

"What? Don't be stupid, don't say anything and let me speak." I stated before directly speaking to Y/N.

"Mademoiselle, I'm sorry if you're one of the persons I scammed years ago. I'm sorry, I really am. It was in a past life, I'm not that man anymore. I've already been convicted guilty and I'm paying for what I have done every second of my life. But please, let us go back to our cells, I'm sorry if in the past I offended you in any way, but the warden Barrot will not have mercy on me or my friend. Please just let us go back to our cells." I sputtered without even realizing it.

She got closer to me. For a second, I thought that she was going to slap me but instead she gently caressed my cheek, before saying:

"Mr. Dega, I thought you were way smarter than that." She turned around and knocked at the door.

We entered the warden's office. I felt Papillon's eyes on me as if to say, 'you should have listened to me, we're screwed now'.

The warden was already there. He seemed to be waiting for us. The entire room was lit by candles and a smell of paraffin and uncertainty floated in the air.

 

"Is Mademoiselle Y/LN satisfied with her 'shopping'?" He said sarcastically while looking at me.

"You know how I am, I do not surround myself with second-bests." She answered confidently. "And by the way, I'm going to take Blondie here with me too." She finished, showing Papillon.

Barrot tensed up when she said that and stood up.

"This is not the deal we made." He retorded. She smirked and held back a laugh.

"We don't make 'deals' Mr. Barrot. I come, I ask, and you give me. And sometimes when I'm in a really good mood I pay you for that. But don't you dare forget which one of us is fixing the rules." He remained silent.

 

"This will cost you twice as much." He finally retorted low.

"That's what you don't understand Mr. Barrot, I'm going to pay you what I owe you for Mr. Dega but Blondie here won't cost me a franc." She answered him before turning toward Papi:

"Nothing against you Blondie." She mouthed to my friend from across the room. I held back a laugh.

"No problem, my lady." Papillon answered her, as calm as possible, even if I knew that he was on the verge of a panic attack, not understanding a single thing of what was happening, just like I did.

"Let's just say that Blondie is a gift you make me, in honor of the longtime friendship you had with my father." She added turning back toward the warden. He sighed.

"People are going to notice it, one prisoner disappearing I can come up with something about that, but two, that's too much." He told her.

"I'm sure that this..." She nodded at Gaspard, who placed a large envelope on the warden's desk. The face of Barrot immediately relaxed at the sight of the envelope content. "... will help you and your imagination to find any kind of explanation for the disappearance of those two." She finished. He nodded, barely listening to her, mesmerized by the money in the envelope.

"Is it done then?"

 

"It is done. I have to admit Mademoiselle Y/LN that you can be pretty convincing when you want. That's why I regret the time your father was in charge of your company, he was more... clement than you are." He declared finally taking his eyes off the money.

"I'm not my father, Mr. Barrot."

She got out of the room followed by Bertrand and Gaspard . Papillon and I stayed there not knowing what to do or where to go. The warden didn't even notice that we were still there. Y/N reentered the room, with a confused look on her face.

"I know that both of you are kind of lost with the protocol and everything but that's the moment you're supposed to follow us." She explained us with a warm smile. We nodded, as confused as always and headed out of the room.

We crossed corridors and hallways for what felt like hours until we finally felt the cold air of the night on our skins. 

 

I had nothing in mind but to walk out of that place, every footstep getting me closer to freedom.

 

We crossed the yard where we had met the previous day and finally reached the gates. A guard opened us the doors for us and acted as if he didn't see nothing. And in less than a minute we were out, out of that hell.

 

We all got in the car, the model of which I didn't recognize. I had probably spent too much time out of Paris for that. Bertrand was driving, Gaspard was next to him on the passenger side while Y/N, Papillon and I were on the backseats. Bertrand started the car, and it sounded like the most beautiful sound ever...


	3. Ηεπmεs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very first Louis Dega x Reader fiction.  
> Inspired by Rami Malek in the movie Papillon (2018)
> 
> Hermès (Eρμῆς), god of travelers and thieves. Could any other god make a better protector for Louis, Papi and you after escaping the prison?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE, thus please report in the comments any grammar, tense or vocabulary mistakes so that I can correct it asap.
> 
> s4msepiol.  
> no copyright infringement intended

**_Your Point of View_ **

We had been driving for an hour. Papillon had fallen asleep as soon as the car entered the jungle, as if after three years of detention he finally felt safe enough to sleep peacefully. He was lulled by the moonlight but you could read the three years of mistreatment he had been through on his face. The scars, scratches and bruises betrayed what he was trying to hide by playing the tough man.

 

Louis, him, seemed more worried and nervous than his friend. He had not said a word since the car had started and his breathing was uneven, as if he would only allow himself to breathe properly once he would be on that boat to France.

  

There was something in me that wanted to protect that man at all costs and I couldn't tell if it was his ocean eyes or his left-hand shaking since we had left the jail. The road until the port was going to be long and I wanted him to get some rest. He was safe now, I had made sure of that.

I placed my hand on his to calm him down a bit. Gesture, which has had the exact opposite effect on him as he flinched at the contact of our hands.

 

"You know that... no one is going to go after us, don't you?" I reassured him as he was checking the road behind us for the 50th time.

"Am I being that obvious? Sorry... it's just that...we've been trying to escape this hell multiple times and... every time we were back in our cells in less than 48 hours." He explained me, feinting a smile. God, that smile. That man must have been seducing the whole French bourgeoisie with such a smile.

"This won't happen, not this time. You're out of there, for good." I told him, squeezing his hand tighter.

I let go off his hand and turned back toward the window of the car, as if I would to turn to stone, if I dared to look him in the eye for too long. The silent night ruled and was only dethroned by the sounds of tropical animals and by Papillon bumbling in his sleep.  Suddenly, I felt Louis' gaze on me and it was the most delicious and excruciating sensation ever.

 

He wanted to ask me something but didn't seem to find the courage to speak. After a while, he took a deep breath and granted me with the pleasure of hearing his voice.

 

"Why? Why are you helping us, Mademoiselle? Why a lady of your rank would cross the ocean, enter this earthly hell just to save a forger and a so-called murderer?" He stopped before adding. "I do not have any money left, and I am afraid I may not be in a position to pay what I owe you, I might never be." He said with a look of despair.

 

"No offense Mr. Dega, but your reversal of fortune is no secret in Paris." Gaspard stated with a smirk from the passenger seat. Louis looked shameful as if he were afraid that this "revelation" would change the opinion I had of him. I wanted him to know that it wasn't the case, that greed was not what had brought me there, in that car next to him, only a few days after we had met. I had more money than I could spend in a lifetime. I came to him for one thing only, but I had to admit that the longer I stayed near Louis the hazier my initial motivations seemed.

"Yes, and yours shouldn't take long if you keep talking to Mr. Dega that way." I retorted on a tone that made Gaspard instantly regret what he had just said. Louis, him, now wore a satisfied smile on his face.

"Excuse him, he isn't just my lawyer, we've been friends for years thus... he sometimes tends to take some liberties that my other employees wouldn't take, Mr. Dega."

"That's nothing and even if it was, he said nothing but the truth..." He said while feinting a smile, I could read the shame in his eyes. "Oh, and please Mademoiselle, my friends, at least those who saved my life call me Louis." He added with a genuine smile this time as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

 

"Louis..." I repeated low, not taking my eyes off him, I would never get tired of saying his name.

**_Louis Point of View_ **

"Louis..." She repeated low, locking her eyes with mine. I would never get tired of hearing her say my name.

"Please tell me, what has a forger done to deserve that such a woman save his life?"

I asked her, aching for her answer. I needed to know, all of that was too good, and I had learnt in jail that nothing in life was free.

She looked at Gaspard like if she were waiting for his approval, which surprised me a bit. I didn't like him, not because of all the remarks he had made at my expense since we had met but because of the relationship he had with her. Were they more than just good friends? Was she engaged to him or to someone else in France? Such a beauty couldn't be single, but something with her was telling me that she could not belong to someone either. She looked back at me and started:

"You have worked for my father Mr. Deg... Louis years ago." I knew her name reminded me of something.

"Mr. Y/LN... Your father owns many hotels and restaurants in Paris, doesn't he? He is one of the few honest men of the capital." I remembered, smiling to the memory of that old man. He had been my first boss, at a time when I was nothing more than a freshly graduated and honest accountant. I unfortunately had to quit my job because my soon-to-be wife dreamt of a more luxurious way of life, a way of life that the wage of an honest bookkeeper couldn't afford.

"He was... He passed away six months ago." Y/N corrected me, she had an expression I had not seen yet on her face, sadness. I would have done anything to erase that expression off her beautiful face.

"I'm ...sorry Y/N, I...didn't know..." I stuttered, not knowing what to say to make her feel better.

"Don't be." She took a deep breath and added "My father, who I consider to be until now the smartest man I've ever met, was intimately convinced of three things. First, that drinking white wine while eating a magret de canard was an offense to the French gastronomy." She smiled as she said that. She went on. "Second, that I would do a much better successor than my brother / cousin in managing my family's assets. And third... that Mr. Louis Dega, and I'm quoting him word for word: 'remains the best accountant I've ever had the honor to work with, an arrogant asshole of course but the most cunning kiddo I've ever met." We both laughed as she quoted her father.

I hadn't laughed that hard in three years, if not more. For the first time in eons I felt good and safe... thanks to her. When we eventually stopped laughing, we stayed still, gazing in each other's eyes.  Tears glazed her eyes but I couldn't tell if it was because of the laughter or because of the painful memory of her father? I couldn't help myself from wiping her tears away. She let me. Without even realizing it my eyes dipped to her lips, I instantly looked up and met her eyes but I could read in her eyes that she had noticed where my gaze had lingered for a second.

I wanted to kiss her so badly that my lips hurt. At that exact moment, it felt like we were alone in the world. I wanted to imprint the memory of that privileged moment in my mind. 

 

Privileged moment aborted by my soon-to-be dead friend. Shit.

"Thank god, I'm still in this car." Papi said with a sleepy voice as he rubbed his eyes. He was right, the whole situation seemed like a daydream. He went on with the same relief in his voice "How far are we from the port?"

"We should be there in less than two hours, sir." Bertrand answered him without taking his eyes off the road. Papillon smiled proudly as he was not used to be treated with so much respect.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a smoke. He flipped it in the air and caught it back in between his lips, like he always did, with varying degrees of success each time.

 

Papi lit the cigarette and smoked it out of the window of the car while contemplating the jungle for, what he hoped to be, the last time of his life.

I turned back towards Y/N as we had not finished our conversation.

"I'm still not sure to understand what you want from me, Mademoiselle Y/LN." I whispered to her, my lips still aching from our aborted kiss.

"Some of my father's employees resigned when they have learnt that I would be in charge of the familial company instead of my brother / cousin. Even if everybody knew that he wasn't able to shoulder that responsibility. The idea of a woman leading them must have bruised a few egos. Thus, I need a new accountant and as I already said I do not surround myself with second-bests. That's where you come in, Mr. Dega."

I couldn't understand why any man on earth would refuse to work for such a goddess, I would have given everything I had to spend a minute with her.

 

"You want me to work for... you?" I felt stupid for asking but I needed to hear it from her.

"You'll have an office and a function car. You'll work Monday through Thursday. 20 hours a week. Bastille Day on, Christmas off. Oh, and believe me, the wage is worth to cross the Atlantic." She stated confidently while looking through the windows. She finally turned back to me. "An honest job... nothing more, nothing less... I just... want you...hum... no one else... for this job I mean." She stuttered, that was the first time I got to see her uncomfortable. Was she...blushing? I wanted to smile at her words but didn't want her to feel more uncomfortable. I acted as if I didn't hear anything even if where it laid pounding in my chest, my heart soared.

 

"Why me? There's a lot of other accountants in Paris, some even better than I am and whose records are clean." I inquired her. Not that I didn't want that job, I wanted it almost as much as I wanted her. I just wanted her to be sure about her decision. Honestly, such a lady working with a former forger, that would not have raised her profile, even if she didn't seem to be the kind of woman who cares about other people's opinion.

She let out a sigh before answering:

"Other accountants? I do not think that half of them have been graduated from La Sorbonne as young as you did." Fuck, she had done some serious research on me. I smirked at that thought. "Most of them will either try to embezzle the funds I devote to charities or will spend more time trying to seduce me than managing my assets." I swallowed hard as she said that. I was definitely in the latter category. The old me, him, would have been in the first one. If not both. She added "About your record, I'm working on it." She stopped before she went on. "I trust my father's opinion of you and what you did earlier only confirmed my intuition..."

"What I did earlier?" I repeated, not fully understanding what she meant.

"I gave you a chance to escape on a silver platter and still you decided to refuse it if you couldn't bring your friend with you, because of the debt you owe him. You're trustworthy, Louis. You may not see it, but I do." She declared with a reassuring smile. No one ever had such a high opinion of myself. I didn't want to disappoint her, I wanted to be everything she was seeing in me. She was offering me a second chance. An honest job, an honest life, at last.

 

"So, you're just gonna give the keys..." Papi started, taking a drag off cigarette "... of your wealth to a thief?" he breathed out, releasing the pent-up smoke captured between his lips. He was right despite everything she was seeing in me, that was what I was. A thief nothing more. I never wanted to be one, but once I was, I never did anything to change. I looked in her eyes seeking for any kind of disappointment, of sudden realization, of disgust. I found nothing but two beautiful Y/EC eyes with a glimpse of light in it.

"A forger, to be exact. Profession which basically consist in finding people stupid enough to believe your fine words about how you're going to multiply per ten the amount of money they'll decide to entrust you... just like Jesus with loaves." I chuckled as she said that. She went on. "I do think that if you're smart enough for people to believe every word coming out of your mouth and entrust you their whole wealth, then the only crime committed here is their irritating ignorance. As I'm neither a listener nor an ignorant, I'm pretty sure that my hypothetical collaboration with Mr. Dega will be crowned with success." She finished with a smirk, leaving Papillon speechless. I couldn't help myself from smiling.

He winced as he felt the cigarette forgotten in his lax fingers burning him. He was as mesmerized as I was by her.

That woman was not only a walking-goddess she was smart, determined and still she was kind and caring. I was mesmerized by every aspect of her personality... and every inch of her body.

 

"You're drooling a little Dega..." Papi whispered to me with a dumb smile that earned him a nudge in response.

"So, tell me Louis, do you accept my offer?" She asked me, she seemed nervous. I took a deep breath.

 

"That would be a real pleasure for me to work for you, Mademoiselle." It took me all my concentration not to stutter.

"Gaspard, did you hear that? I got myself the best accountant in Paris."

"I did, I'm just hoping that next month you're not going to announce me that you need a maid who is detained in the middle east, my devotion has some limits Y/N." He answered while reading some documents he was working on.

She held back her laughter, not wanting to give that satisfaction to her friend. I wanted to make her laugh that way, her laugh was the most beautiful one I had ever heard. It sounded like a symphony to my ears. I felt stupid for being jealous of him and of the relation he had with her, they had been friends for years and I only had met her a few days before but still I wanted to be that close to her.

"Remind me why did I hire you?" She asked rhetorically, her head against the window of the car.

"Because I was the valedictorian of my class and that without the precious advice I'm giving you since we were child, your life would have ended long ago. I'm not even speaking about the fact that I saved you a lot of trial." He answered still looking at his documents, but this time I could tell by the sound of his voice that he was smiling while saying that.

I felt a wave of jealousy overwhelming me, they had so many shared memories. We only had one, a smelly and disgusting cell. We weren't of the same world, we used to be, but it wasn't the case anymore. I hated to act like that, she wasn't mine, she was not my property, not even his. I started to drown in that wave of envy, gasping for air. Until I felt it. Until I felt her.

She put her head on my shoulder to get some rest. I flinched at the sudden proximity of our bodies but quickly relaxed and enjoyed the sensation of her body so close to mine that I could feel the heat of it, tantalizing and forbidden, thrumming across my skin. I put my head on hers and fell asleep right away. I hadn't felt that good in years, far from hell and close to an angel.

**_Your Point of View_ **

I woke up to the sound of sea-birds. How long have I been asleep? The sun was rising and its rays were irradiating Louis' face.

 

He was there, asleep on my shoulder, peacefully. His breathing was even, and I warmed up when I felt his hot breath against my collarbone. I stayed still, not wanting to wake him up. I took that moment to look at him, not superficially and quickly as I did it until then too intimated by his gaze, but the same way I would scrutinize a painting in the Louvre.

I liked every details of his face, from his dark circles, that were like a written register of all the sleepless nights he had spent in his cell, to the commissure of his lips. His lips drove me crazy. As his tongue darted out to dab his bottom lip I couldn't keep my eyes from locking on that alluring motion. I wondered what it would be like to feel those lips against mine. Would his kiss be warm like the sand of a French riviera beach slipping through my fingers? Or cold, ice cold, making my blood run cold, like the Parisian winter, leaving me unable to speak or move?

I kept myself from looking at his lips any longer; afraid of what my body would make me do, if I had dared to. It was easier to focus on his face when he was asleep, his ocean eyes were not distracting me from the rest. Louis was very handsome but before I could ponder about it further Bertrand stopped the car. Gaspard turned to me and said:

"I'm going to take some of my clothes out of my suitcase for Papillon to put them on, before we get into the boat." He whispered, not to wake up the two men. I slightly nodded not to disturb Louis' rest. He was right I had almost forgotten that Papillon unlike Louis was still wearing his convict clothes, and that wouldn't go unnoticed once on the boat.

 

The car was facing the port and I could see the ocean through the windshield. The only thing I wanted was to put Louis in that boat for him to go as far as he could from that place. I was on the backseat of a Cadillac, staring at the horizon, a handsome man asleep on my shoulder. It sounded like the beginning of a mediocre romance novel, but something in me wanted to know the end of that story.

I gently caressed his cheek and I could have sworn that he leant into my touch. He then opened his eyes and gasped. I could read in his eyes the relief of not waking up in that awful cell. He then tried to go back to sleep, but he must have realized whose shoulder he was using as a pillow because he snapped his eyes back open instantly.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... I was exhaust..." He started stammering excuses not knowing that being so close to him during a few hours had been a delight to me.

"Louis... don't be, please. You've been through a lot, I'm happy that you feel safe enough with us to fall asleep." I reassured him, my tone almost a whisper. He smiled at me in response. We got out of the car.

 

"With... With you."

He corrected me, the deep, level tones of his voice making something flutter, hot and urgent, deep in my belly. His eyes were even more shiny because of the sunrise and were locked with mine, thoughts and expressions swirling in their depths. His eyes swept down my body with a strange heat I'd never quite seen there before. I felt weak, dependent of him in every existing way.

I clenched my teeth knowing that the feeling was probably not mutual. He had spent three years in prison, his priority was probably not love for the moment. I put those thoughts at the back of mind and focused back on my will to put as much distance as I could between Louis and French Guiana.

I was going to answer him or to stutter an answer when Papillon came to us, wearing Gaspard's clothes.

 

"So... how do I look?" Papillon asked us, turning around to show off.

 

"Like a thief disguised as a lawyer." Louis retorted smiling to his friend.

"I was talking to Mademoiselle Y/LN, dear friend." Papillon said feinting a curtsy.

"Almost like an honorable man." I answered, leaning against the car next to Louis. I was touched by the effect those clothes had on him. He seemed genuinely happy of leaving his rags behind for good.

"The boarding is going to start, our luggage is already on board and our cabins are reserved, we should get in line with other passengers." Gaspard suggested, pointing at the queue the other passengers were already forming in front of the giant ship that was going to take us back to our motherland.

 


	4. Chαποη

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very first Louis Dega x Reader fiction.  
> Inspired by Rami Malek in the movie Papillon (2018)
> 
> In Greek mythology, Charon (karɔ̃) is the ferryman of Hades who carries souls of the newly deceased across the river Styx that divided the world of the living from the world of the dead. The escape of Louis and Papi knows some difficulties when they cross the road of an old friend, their own “Charon” somehow…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE, thus please report in the comments any grammar, tense or vocabulary mistakes so that I can correct it asap.
> 
> s4msepiol.  
> no copyright infringement intended

 

**_Your Point of View_ **

We were waiting in line, Bertrand was chatting with a sailor, Papillon and Gaspard were curiously getting along and I stood behind them next to Louis, waiting for us to get on board.

 

"I didn't have the occasion to thank you properly for...everything you've done." He declared looking at me, while I was trying to hide my anxiety by tightening my grip on our tickets. "You saved my life and my friend's. For the first time in three years, thanks to you, I'm wearing something else than rags." I calmed myself down, I wanted that man, I wanted him the way a woman wants a man and acting like a shy high school girl would have been useless.

I got closer to him and carefully avoided his gaze so as not to lose confidence.

"You'll thank me once we'll be at the terrace of a café over a glass of good wine, with the Eiffel tower behind us." I said him confidently while fixing the collar of his shirt.

His glinting eyes darted to the side, as I tightened his tie. Was he avoiding my gaze? An expression of doubt colored his features, as if he were working on the answer he was going to give me.

"Is that an invitation Mademo..." He started interrupted by the captain's strong voice.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I have the honor to welcome you aboard the Napoleon. Boarding will start any time soon so please prepare your tickets." He shouted, his sentence punctuated by the sounds of seagulls.

The queue finally started to move forward and people slowly started to get on board. Suddenly, I felt Louis freeze next to me. He grabbed my arm tightly not taking his eyes off a man in front of him. He looked like a man who had seen an old friend... or an old enemy.

 

**_Louis Point of View_ **

It was him, there was no doubt. Papillon turned to me, he had noticed too. The ticket inspector was the same man who brought girls to the prison every week for guards to spend some good time with. Papillon had even tried to pay him once for him to get us out, plan which had majestically failed.

He would recognize us, contact the police and, in less time than it takes to say 'Paris', we would be back in solitary and I didn't even want to think about Y/N's fate for having tried to help us.

 

"Louis, what's wrong?" I heard her delicate voice say while I was still staring at the ticket inspector. I quickly looked down for him not to notice us. My heart was pounding in my chest, my hands were trembling.

She must have noticed it because she took my hand in hers to calm me down. Her touch had a crazy effect on me. I finally gathered my thoughts, my heart still pounding hard in my chest.

"The man right there, don't look at him, he knows who we are." I shortly explained, we had no time for monologues. She instantly understood the urgency of the situation and didn't ask for further explanations but her eyes darkened as I went on. "Papi and I should leave while we still can, that way you'll be able to get on this boat without any problems." All of a sudden, she let go off my hands.

I wanted to protect her at all costs, even if it meant giving up on my last chance to be a free man, even if it meant giving up on her...

She looked concerned and avoided my gaze. She was looking down at our tickets and during a second I imagined that... she could be sad about losing me, Louis, not about losing Mr. Dega, her bookkeeper and accountant. She finally looked back at me and said:

"Louis, your freedom is on that boat, all you have to do is to reach out and take it, but I can't do it for you or force you to do it." She swallowed before adding. "So... if you want to stay here then I'll do nothing against it... but if there's a single part of you that wish to drink that glass of wine in Paris with us, then let me help you. I'm not letting you here, not because I want you to work for me, but because I truly believe that your place is not here and that it has never been."

She was right, my place wasn't there but with her and I wasn't going to let a low-level procurer tore my only chance to be happy.

 

"You know where we'll end if they catch us?" I asked. I wanted to be sure she knew what were the risks of staying near me.

"I do, and I warn you now I'm taking the top bunk." She joked finally smiling again. "I hope that hypothetical glass of red wine is worth it, Mr. Dega." She added with a smile.

 

"Is that an invitation Mademoiselle ?" I answered looking down not daring to see her reaction. I would have loved to flirt with her a little longer, but we had more urgent things to deal with. Wait... we were flirting, weren't we?

She took a deep breath and all of a sudden we were all on automatic mode, following her instructions.

"Papillon stop looking at him, and that goes for you too, Louis." She ordered.

She hadn't called him Papillon since they had met, which was a pretty good hint of the distress we were in. She was looking for something in her purse. She finally took out a book.

"Papillon take this and don't you dare look at anything else but Baudelaire's prose." He nodded and complied. "Bertrand, please switch places with Louis and me." He did and in less than a second we were now in front of our small group, Bertrand, Papillon and Gaspard behind us. She sighed and added "Papillon have you ever seen anyone smiling while reading a Baudelaire's poem, most of them are about loneliness and death."

He chuckled and stopped smiling. I would have laughed too in other circumstances, but the presence of that man, only a few feet away from us allowed me to feel nothing beside anxiety.

There were only a few people left in front of us. In a few minutes, that daydream would come to its end. I trusted Y/N but a part of me was convinced that I was destined to die in that cell, alone. I felt like I was slowly drifting toward a storm. She took my hand as if she could hear me think. She was the anchor keeping me in still waters, away from the tidal wave.

It was now our turn. I held my breath and walked toward the man. My freedom depended on a procurer. Ironic, isn't it?

"Tickets please, Miss." I heard an all too familiar voice say.

I was looking at Y/N but I could feel that he had a pervert smile, the latter making me want to punch him. She handed him our tickets with a large smile. Her smile was different from the ones she had given me until then , it was more... fake.

"Thank you." I felt his eyes on me but never stopped from looking at Y/N.

"You're welcome." She squeezed my hand tighter while he was looking at our tickets, for what felt like eternity.

"Welcome on board." He finally declared. I breathed out when he said that.

We started to walk up the gangway to the ship.

 

"Sir!"

His raspy voice yelled behind us causing both of us to freeze.

I squeezed Y/N's hand tighter, a part of me wanted to kiss her while I still could. She looked at me and nodded almost imperceptibly encouraging me to turn around. I took a deep breath, looked in her beautiful eyes for courage and turned around.

"Yes, my good man?" My heart was pounding in my chest and my jaw hurt from smiling.

 

"If I were you, I would stay close to this beauty. Many a man would pay to have her on his arm." He advised me.

It was unreal. That man, who was paid by the warden to denounce any prisoner escaping, was in front of me, a convict he had seen more than once, and the only thing that he had noticed was her.

I swallowed my anger, knowing exactly what that 'compliment' really meant coming from a procurer's mouth, and simply answered without even having to think about it:

 

 

"I will. Many a man would have to go through me before, then. Have a nice day, sir." I stated calmly. How did I remain so calm?

I turned back to Y/N who was smiling, genuinely smiling this time, I could see it. We made a few steps forward on the gangway and waited for the others to pass the ticket control too.

Gaspard and his charismatic allure were next to us in less than a second. And before I could even enjoy my little win over the ticket inspector, it was Papi's turn...

My heart started to pound again. We were all staring at him, and from where we were, we could see the tight grip he had on the book.

"Ticket, please." The ticket inspector said with the same monotonous voice. Papillon handed him his ticket and fuck... he was shaking. I had never seen him nervous before, despite everything we had been through. He was a tough guy, but that was the kind of situation that made every one of your carefully and longtime erected walls collapse.

The man took his ticket and looked at Papillon who wasn't taking his eyes off the book Y/N had given him.

He handed his ticket back to Papi who quickly glanced at him without even realizing it. Suddenly, the ticket inspector frowned, he looked puzzled.

Papillon reached out for his ticket but the man in front of him didn't let the precious piece of paper go. They were staring at each other, hands on the ticket.

 

"I've already seen you somewhere, didn't I?" He asked Papillon suspiciously. Papi swallowed hard when he said that. I could see hope in his eyes, completely shattered. Y/N could probably see it in mine too. What was I thinking? That a beautiful woman would just come out of nowhere and extricate myself from hell?

Y/N let go off my hand and went towards the man. I followed her, not caring about the consequences.

"Sir, is there a problem? This man is with us." She asked calmly not wanting him to detect any hint of anxiety in her voice. He didn't even pay attention to what she had said and kept staring at Papi.

The man turned to me before asking to Papi:

 

"Same thing for your friend there? Am I wrong?" He said pointing at me. Fuck.

"My friends have, I must admit it, pretty common faces, as you might agree." Gaspard declared with the same forced smile Y/N had before. I couldn't tell if it was another dig at me or an attempt to get us out of our predicament.

"No, there's something else, I had a hunch about him." He looked at me when he said that, "but I'm convinced I know this man from somewhere." He finished, looking at Papillon this time.

We all stayed there, not knowing what to do or to say. Waiting for him either to give up or to remember us. Our clothes and the presence of Y/N, Gaspard and Bernard were probably the only things preventing him from remembering us. The tension in that silence was palpable.

 

"I know exactly who these people are." A voice behind us said. I had already heard it once, couldn't tell where or when. I flinched when I heard it. I closed my eyes waiting for my sentence.

"You do?" The procurer asked confused, widening his eyes. He looked nervous at the sight of the man behind me. My heart was beating out of my chest. I turned around. It was the captain.

"Yeah. I'm getting a little slow on faces but Miss Y/LN here isn't someone I expected to show up in this place. I had the honor of meeting her at La Royale conference in ... " He was trying to remember. "London, was it?" He finally asked. I left out a sigh of relief. We all did in fact, except Y/N.

"Moscow." Y/N corrected him, after a few seconds. She looked perplexed and for some reason, the smile she was giving him was as forced as the one she was giving to the ticket inspector a second before. Was she lying? There was something going on and I was unable to say what. Or was I just over reading the situation as usual?

"Moscow, that's it." He stated. "This is Mademoiselle Y/LN, her father was a good friend of mine and an honorable man. I can vouch for those young persons. Believe me, Mademoiselle Y/LN is the kind of woman you want to stay in good terms with." He explained to his subordinate while kissing Y/N's hand. "So, now get the other passengers on board and quickly, I want this boat to sail before the tide turns, do you get me?" He ordered to the ticket inspector.

"Yes, captain." The other man answered. "Sorry Miss, I probably mistook your friend for someone else." He apologized before turning towards the next passengers. I relaxed as soon as I was out of his sight.

"¿Qué está haciendo aquí señorita ? Está lejos de París y la Guayana Francesa no es un lugar para una mujer joven tan delicada." He asked her in Spanish. ( _What are you doing here Mademoiselle? You're far from Paris and French Guiana isn't a place for such a delicate and young woman.)_

"Tenía un importante asunto que atender, en persona. Ya conoce a Bertrand y Gaspard si no me equivoco, y esos son... Charles y Claude, accionistas. " ( _I had an important business to attend to. I could not afford to leave this to someone else. You already know Bertrand and Gaspard if I'm not wrong, and here are ... Charles and Claude, shareholders.)._  She answered him in a perfect Spanish without any difficulties. She, of course, changed our names not wanting the ticket inspector who was still there, to have the slightest clue who we were, and believe me a name like Papillon left no room for doubt.

"Nice to meet you, young gentlemen, any friend of Y/N's a friend of mine." The captain said shaking hands with us. Our savior.

 

We finally arrived on the deck. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath of sea air and listened to nothing but the sea gulls. When I opened my eyes, I looked at Papi who looked like he survived a heart attack. I couldn't help myself from laughing out loud when I saw his face, he looked at me and without me having to say anything he started to laugh as loud as I did.

 

We hugged out of joy, still laughing like mad men, overwhelmed by a wave of happiness. After a few seconds, he let me go; knowing him probably to avoid any ambiguity on the nature of our friendship and ran to the other side of the deck. He leant over the rail and shouted at the top of his lungs to the ocean.

"WOOO-HOOO" He shouted spreading his arms. I had never seen him that happy. We were so close to our freedom. Thanks to the ship size only a couple and their child noticed his surge of happiness. Y/N, Bernard, Gaspard and the captain were talking a little farther.

"Hey 'Charles', catch this!" He shouted, launching me the first edition of Les Fleurs du Mal by Charles Baudelaire. I caught the book in my hands, not without difficulties.

"Do you only know how to read?" I joked and instantly regretted it.

His face hardened and before I could run he wrapped his arm around my neck and tried to choke me from behind while laughing as I was gasping for air.

"Take it back!" I shook my head laughing hard.

"Take it back! My parents were teachers I told you this a hundred times." He repeated tightening his arm around my neck.

"Okay, okay..." I complied. He finally let me go. "You're definitely... the most educated man I've ever met Monsieur 'Claude'... the proof being your choices in terms of reading." I said sarcastically showing the book while catching my breath.

I put my glasses back on and noticed that Y/N was looking at us since the beginning of our 'boys fight'. She had a genuine large smile. I would have done anything for her to smile that way. Her grin was devastating. I adjusted my glasses and I felt stupid for a second but decided not to care because I had made her smile. That was all that mattered to me.

 

The captain finally led us to our cabins while speaking with Y/N. He had his hand on her lower back and she was attentively listening to him. It was the first time since we had met that she wasn't near me and I ached for her gaze. I felt stupid for acting like a spoiled kid.

"I made sure you and your friends got the best cabins of the ship." The Captain boasted, not taking his eyes off Y/N.

 

For the first time in years I was going to sleep in a real bed, with decent pillows and covers, rocked by the sound of the ocean and not by other prisoners' screams. Then he took us down a stairway, we arrived in a hallway. The carpeted-floor was red with gold details embroidered on it. There were paintings on the walls that stirred my artistic-soul. Every cabin door was painted in a complex shade of red reminding me of the wines of Burgundy. That ship looked nothing like the one that had brought me there three years before, cabins replaced cages, nice carpets replaced chains and beds replaced hammocks. Her blooming perfume replaced the smell of death.

We stopped, and the Captain finally took his hand off Y/N's lower back and reached for a piece of paper in his pocket. He unfolded it and started to read it out loud.

"So... we have... number 45 for my old friend Bertrand, number 46 for Claude, number 47 for Gaspard and across from it number 48 for Miss Y/LN and 49 for Charles. Mine is number 7, don't hesitate if you need anything.". He bent the piece of paper and put it back in his pocket.

He kissed Y/N's hand before adding "Mademoiselle, a pleasure as always. I'm afraid I'm failing to fulfill my obligations as captain of this ship. I better should go welcome the other passengers even if I'm sure that none of their company will be as delightful as yours. Hope you and your friends will be satisfied with your cabins. We should leave the port anytime soon." God that man irritated me even more than Gaspard did.

When he finally left, we all stayed still in silent in that hallway in front of our respective cabins. We were all looking at each other and there was an implicit tension in the air. Tension that we shattered the second we all burst out laughing.

 

"Honestly? 'Charles and Claude', that's all you found?" Papi asked Y/N while laughing. I don't know why, but the waves of laughter kept coming.

"There was that damn book and... and you were trying to hide yourself between page 245 and 246, and I just... I just thought of the author and remembered his brother's name and just... yes, came up with that...". She explained, laughing so hard. God, her laugh was definitely the most beautiful I had ever heard.

"You couldn't have found something less cliché than that?" I retorted between laughs. With each surge of laughter, I released some of the tension that had built between us. Perhaps my body could just not contain it any longer.

"Louis! The ticket inspector was right there, looking at me with that disgusting look of his. What did you want me to do? Smile and just declare 'Hey sir, here are our tickets, you see my friend here? His name is Louis Dega he probably swindled you more times than I can count, oh and you see Blondie there? Remember that watch you lost seven years ago? It was him, he sold it and paid a prostitute in Montmartre with the money'"I took my glasses off to wipe my tears away.

"If your mother knew about the kind of situation I let you put yourself in, she would dismiss me within a minute." Bertrand declared chuckling, making the old man's crows-feet stand out.

"Don't be stupid Bertrand, you've been working for my family for so long, we don't even know how to get rid of you." Y/N reassured him, regaining her composure.

"17." Gaspard whispered to himself.

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked him, not understanding where he was getting at.

"The mandatory minimum sentence for aiding a prisoner to escape is seven years. Multiply that by two as you also decided to bring Blondie on our road-trip, add to that the 3 years for corruption of a warden and you get 17 years of prison." He stated smirking at her. "You know who would be happy about it? Your father's shareholders. The real ones, at least." Gaspard joked, looking at Papillon and me. She laughed, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, gently rubbing her arm. Argh. I hold my breath behind pursed lips to steel myself against the gales of laughter to come. She whispered something in his ear. Argh. His smile died and the look in his face hardened going back to its usual expression.

"I think we all need to get some rest, especially the two of you" She declared looking at me and Papi.

I suddenly felt exhausted, it was like if all the stress caused by the recent events vanished all of a sudden and only left tiredness. Papillon didn't wait any longer and got into his cabin and I couldn't hold that against him. He was probably aching for a soft bed and a hot shower as much as I did. Bertrand and Gaspard did the same.

I was alone in that hallway with Y/N.

  

"I'll see you at dinner, thus." I declared, not knowing from where I had found the courage to say that.

"Is that an invitation, Mr. Dega?"

She simply answered as another grin tugged at her lips. She entered her cabin. I found myself unable not to smile back, like a fool, alone in that hallway.


	5. Sτγx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very first Louis Dega x Reader fiction.  
> Inspired by Rami Malek in the movie Papillon (2018)
> 
> In Greek mythology, Styx (Στύξ) is a deity and a river that forms the boundary between Earth and the Underworld. In this 5th chapter of Champs Elysées, Louis understands that the cross of the Atlantic, forming the boundary between his earthly hell and his Garden of Eden, might be an Herculean task…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE, thus please report in the comments any grammar, tense or vocabulary mistakes so that I can correct it asap.
> 
> MATURE RATED : This chapter contains a smut scene 
> 
> s4msepiol.  
> no copyright infringement intended

**_Warning:_ ** _This chapter contains a smut scene._

**_Louis' Point of View_ **

I opened the door and entered my cabin. That was just a cabin and yet I couldn't remember the last time I had stood in such a luxurious room. The room was decorated in warm shades of burgundy with rich oak-finished furnishings.

To the left of the door, stood a wooden four-poster bed, the burgundy bedspread matched the bed curtains along with the armchair and sofa on my right. A small table lit by a soft lighting faced a double sink vanity. A door at the end of the room led to a bathroom equipped with shower and toilets.

In the main room, there were a glass and a bottle of red wine. I filled my glass and raised it to my mouth. All of a sudden, it occurred to me, and before the sweet elixir even brushed my lips I put the glass down on the table. I didn't want to drink it, there, alone in my cabin but with her ' _at the terrace of a café with the Eiffel tower behind us._ ' I thought quoting her words. I smiled at that thought.

I stayed there a few minutes, scrutinizing the ceiling, the knots of the wood and the stitching of the expensive fabrics. I finally sat on my bed. The mattress was thick and irresistibly comfortable, like a billowing cloud. My heart tugged at the thought of the straw mattress I was used to. I fought the call of sleep and decided to take a shower. Something that, unfortunately, I couldn't wait for Y/N to take with me. I stood up and headed to the bathroom but before I could even make a few steps, I tripped over something.

"Shit!" I whispered to myself, not wanting for Y/N whose cabin was just behind that wall to hear me.

 

There was, in front of the bed, a steamer trunk I had not noticed until then. I knelt in front of the large box and opened the latches of the trunk. I was going to open the box when I noticed a little detail that instantly put a smile on my face. Between the two main latches, there was a small gold button with initials on it.

 

LD, my initials.

"Y/N..." I whispered, my fingers brushing the surface of the gold, smooth and hard material.

I scrutinized the box not to miss anything else. On the right side of it, four letters were spray-painted, probably by the ship's crew: LDSP, which stood for Louis Dega Send to Paris.

  

I finally opened the trunk. Shirts, pants, ties, pajamas, socks, shoes, a shaving kit and so on.  That couldn't be real. How could my situation have taken such a shift in less than a week?

I had to thank her, once again for everything. I quickly stood up, headed to the door of my cabin and opened it. Suddenly, I realized that I hadn't taken a shower in two days and that if I wanted to compete with Gaspard or the Captain, I had to stack the odds in my favor. I wanted her to see the real me, the one she would have met in Paris, three years before if everything had been different. I closed the door, made my way back to the bathroom and grabbed a few things in the trunk on the way.

I took my clothes off, and let them fall to the ground.

 

I stepped into the shower, toes flinching as they touched the chilled ceramic floor. It was the first shower that I wouldn't have to share with anyone, all alone and not caring about hurrying myself. It was nearly 30 degrees outside, and still I decided to turn the dial to hot. Just because I could. Showers in prison were something I hated, among other things. Ice cold water, summer or winter, being naked next to other prisoners who either wanted to kill me for my money, or to convince Maturette to let them satisfy their urges with him. Thank god, I had Papillon. I smirked thinking of the time he had ripped off El Caiman's ear because he had tried to stab me in the showers.

 

I turned the dial all the way to hot, releasing thousands of lukewarm drops, darkening my hair and trickling down my back. My eyes fell closed.

 

The water poured down and dripped by my side, as my mind faded into dullness and everything became a foggy illusion. My mind swirled, and it was like I was standing under an everlasting waterfall. The sensation of the steamy water calmed me; it took my mind off things. All the things I honestly didn't care about, leaving only what really counted. And recently, it really came down to just one thing. Y/N.

 

My thoughts turned back to her and my heart raced at those thoughts. An ache filled my chest as I wished she was with me right then. I realized how much I missed her the second she wasn't around.

Thinking I might as well get started, I grabbed the soap and began lathering up my chest. Running my hands over the rest of myself, and with her still at the forefront of my thoughts, I made the task more pleasant by imagining my hands as hers. She would scrub me down first, her delicate hands instantly relaxing me and making all the worries of the day melt away from me. No matter how bad it got, she would always make me forget. And making me forget would always end with me making love to her right there until the water would run cold.

Soon enough I realized that I was more aroused than ever before, thanks to my imaginings. Knowing I would have to start preparing for diner soon, I considered lowering the water temperature to cool myself off, but I knew from experience that it would do no good in the long run. Only one thing stood a chance of taking the edge off.

Setting the soap down, I finally gave my body what it desired and lowered my hand to grasp my length.

A deep sigh of relief tumbled from my lips, my fingers squeezing and kneading as they began to traverse.  
I leant back against the wall as I began to work myself. Up and down my digits slid, slowly at first, then gradually building up speed. I worked the lower length of my shaft, tugging and pulling. I traveled my way upwards, running my thumb across the head and teasing the slit.

I pictured myself kissing her, that simple idea made my face burn. The shiver I felt when I imagined her kissing me back had nothing to do with the water temperature.

 _I should have kissed her_ , I told myself, re-imagining all the occasion I had had since we had met.  
Instead of turning away from her, I'd cup her face in my hand and kiss her with all the passion I could muster.

A vague sense of guilt rose up in me as I imagined Y/N's touch instead, but I couldn't bring myself to stop. As my hand slid up and down my shaft, I felt heat spark in my groin at the idea of her touching me.

Picturing her with me right then - one of her hands stroking me with nimble fingers as water would run down her naked body - sent a jolt of pleasure straight to my lenght. I moaned before I could stop myself and slapped a hand over my mouth. The walls were probably thin and the last thing I wanted was to be interrupted or to be heard.

 

My mind conjured an idea of what she would look like beneath the elegant dress she wore once I would have torn it apart.

 _She's so beautiful, why the hell didn't I even tell her yet?_ I scolded myself as I worked my hand a little faster. My knees started to feel weak as pressure built in my groin. I bit back another moan and braced a hand against the wall for support.

Her fingers were the ones teasing me. Her hand was the one grasping me. She was the one pleasuring me. The mental replacement was enough to send my hips jerking forward, a moan sputtering out into the shower as it left my lips. With every stroke of my hand, I let my mind wander even further, back to the vision of her naked against me, her breasts pressed against my chest.

One of her arm would be around my neck while she would kiss me passionately, her other hand around my length stroking teasingly, pleasuring me until the sun would go down. My mouth fell open as the image made my shaft twitch again.

I started rocking against my hand, meeting it movement for movement. Though it probably wasn't as good as the real thing, as Y/N truly sharing an intimate moment with me.

I gripped myself tighter and started using longer strokes on myself, stopping only to rub the thick tip of my member with my palm. With each stroke, my moans continued to get louder and soon enough I was thanking the shower for covering my moans. Her name and my grunts turned into a steady melody that filled the small space, and when I replaced her hands with her mouth instead, picturing the wetness and warmth it had to offer, I couldn't hold back any longer.

Just imagining her working me and the feel and sounds of her moaning around my sensitive muscle only made things worse and so I began rubbing and tugging at myself even harder. It was vivid, and real feeling. Maybe she was just a figment of my imagination, if I could conjure the feeling of what her pleasuring me might feel like. I had heard what her sighing sounded like, and it just made me harder.

 

"Hum... Y/N" I moaned her name like a prayer.

I felt my orgasm building rapidly. With my hips moving and imaging my hand as her womanhood, I surrendered to my pleasure. I felt myself becoming desperate for release. It was all too much. I felt too much. Her hands, her lips, her tongue, her skin and breath... I let out a yelp and a string of moans as I came.

"F-Fuck, Y/N!"

Heart banging against my rib cage, I panted hard and leant heavily against the shower wall. I remained tense, stroking myself slower and gentler to bring myself down from my high.

My breathing was harsh and heavy, and my member softened in my hand, my body satisfied with my doings. My mind however, was not. If anything, my mind grew more aflame than my body had been previously, thoughts and feelings swirling in a mad whirlpool.

Watching the pearly liquid mix with the scented water of the shower and disappear down the drain made me feel guilty. There was always a bit of guilt involved when it came to that, once the phantom of her was gone, once I was alone with the hand on my softening member.  
I grabbed the soap and began to wash myself.

 

**...**

Once I got out of the shower, I almost didn't recognize myself in the mirror. It was a bit weird getting used to those simple everyday things again. I shaved myself and went to my room to pick some clothes.

I had some time left before dinner, so I sat on my bed, still wet only wearing a towel around my waist and just enjoyed the feeling of being clean.

 

After a few minutes, something caught my attention. Her voice. I focused on what she was saying. That was very impolite I knew it, but I couldn't bring myself to stop and even if I could the thin walls wouldn't have permitted it.

 

"Gaspard, are you even serious right now?" She asked. Fuck, he was with her, in her cabin. That was probably why I had no chance with her, while he was taking initiatives I was jerking off to her in my shower.

I focused to hear better.

"I'm just saying that it could be a possibility." He answered her. What were they talking about?

"Don't you dare make me doubt myself, Gaspard." They were arguing. That made me smirk I have to admit it.

"Y/N we've had a long day, you probably just forgot him." He stated on a much calmer tone. Who was that "him", were they talking about Papi or me?

"Gaspard, I'm telling you I have never seen that man before. I'm convinced of it. How could I remember of Louis that I only saw once through the door of my father's office but forget about a man that I've met, with whom I spoke and maybe even shared a drink?" I couldn't help but smile when I heard my name coming out of her mouth.

I couldn't tell what pleased me the most, the fact that she was talking, (thinking?) about me even when I wasn't around or the fact that she had recognized me in that yard, after only catching a glimpse of me years before, in her father's office implying that I had, in a way, caught her attention.

"Well... I got to hand it to you... Which leads to the only rational explanation, he wants something from you. Next question being, what?" Gaspard finally admitted. Who were they talking about? That question echoed so loud in my mind that it was almost keeping me from hearing properly what was said behind that thin wall.

"Money or sex. I asked you to come to help me figure out which one, not to tell me things I already know." She sounded exhausted.

My member twitched when she said that, like a little kid giggling at the word "sex". The simple idea of sex, coming from her mouth made me crazy.

I loved that about her, she wasn't like all the other women of the bourgeoisie, prudish and passing by complicated metaphors to speak about simple things. She was smart but also very down-to-earth and direct.

"Well... Y/N you have plenty of money and concerning the...other option... I heard that it's the fantasy of a lot of woman to do it on a boat, thus..." He joked, making neither Y/N nor me laugh. The simple idea of her lying down naked next to another man made my heart tug.  _She's not yours._  I reminded myself.

"I'm really thinking about replacing you with Papillon since talking nonsense seems to be the only quality required for the task?" I chuckled at the idea of Papi being her lawyer, my colleague... The worst employees ever.

"What? Oh, I get it... you go all prudish for your little prisoner. If I were you I would not neglect the other one, you would have never met the subject of your infatuation without him."

"I'm aware of that, thank you."

**...**

_"If I were you I would not neglect the other one, you would have never met the subject of your infatuation without him."_ And to think some people say that words can't hurt.  A few words, that was all it took for a gaping hole to form inside my chest, leaving me unable to think, speak or move. My heart was pounding in my chest. I couldn't bring myself to accept it. That simple sentence was all I could think about. I kept repeating it in my mind, trying to find an explanation. It couldn't mean what it meant.

I sat on the edge of my bed. I needed to hear it 'out loud' to make it more tangible, concrete. The quiet voice in my mind wouldn't be enough, not this time. I needed to destroy every shred of hope in me, every shred of hope that maybe one day the vision I'd had in the shower could become real, that one day she could be mine.

 

"She wants Papi, not you." I whispered to myself, ignoring the tears that rolled down my cheeks to end on my chest with the remaining water drops from my shower.

Gaspard's words resonated in my mind. I was nothing more than  _'the other one'_ , the one that had permitted her to meet Papi. If I hadn't insisted for her to bring Papillon with us, I might be the one she wanted to kiss, touch, love. I erased that thought of my mind, scolding myself for thinking that. That wasn't his fault, he was my friend, I never would have forgiven myself if I had let him in that prison. That wasn't his fault, that wasn't even hers, only mine. Papi was more charismatic than the coward I was, more muscular, and funnier than I would ever be. What a fool I was to think she might want more than just a professional relationship with me.

It hurt. It hurt more than any whip, any punch, anything. 

 

I thus decided to do the only thing that had made me feel better recently. That was illogical, stupid and yet I knew that it would have the same effect as a dose of heroin. I got up, wiped my tears away and got ready. I chose the most elegant suit I could find in my trunk and put it on. I checked myself in the mirror, put some perfume on and made my way to the only place on earth I wanted to be at that moment. With her.

 

I needed her, I wanted her, I loved her. I would have rather hated her, but I couldn't bring myself to it. I was ready to be whatever she wanted me to be, her accountant, her friend, her confident, as long as I could be with her.

The pain was still there. Those thoughts just made it quieter, more bearable and that was all I needed to survive dinner.

And before I could even realize it, in a blink, I was in front of her door.


	6. Pσsεiδση

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very first Louis Dega x Reader fiction.  
> Inspired by Rami Malek in the movie Papillon (2018)
> 
> In ancient Greece, Poseidon (Ποσειδῶν) was held responsible for storms and shipwrecks. Between old anecdotes of convicts and jealousy, the ship bringing Louis, Papi and you to France will be caught in troubled waters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE, thus please report in the comments any grammar, tense or vocabulary mistakes so that I can correct it asap.
> 
> s4msepiol.  
> no copyright infringement intended

**_Louis' Point of View_**   

I was there, in front of her door, alone in that hallway searching for excuses. I was there to thank her for everything. That sounded credible, at least, enough for me to believe it, enough for me to deny the fact that I was only there for her, only because I needed to be near her.

I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard someone play violin on the other side of the door. Was it her? I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Come in!" I heard her delicate voice say. I breathed out and opened the door.

First thing I saw was Gaspard sitting in an armchair a violin in hand.

  

"Your forger is here." He shouted toward the bathroom before going back to his score.

And then I saw her. She was stunning. She took my breath away the minute she got out of the bathroom. She was only wearing a black satin robe. I probably had interrupted her while she was getting ready for dinner. She finished knotting her robe and said to Gaspard:

"Be nice with your colleague, it's his first day."

It was getting harder and harder not to look at somewhere else but her eyes. I had a glimpse of her smooth legs and the silky fabric enhanced her curves perfectly. Was she naked underneath it? I felt myself getting hard at that thought.

"Please Louis, sit." She said showing me the vacant seat next to Gaspard.

I sat trying to hide as much as I could the forming tent in my pants. She sat across from me crossing her legs and leant in to grab the pack of cigarettes on the table. My eyes inevitably lingered on her cleavage as she did so. She took a cigarette out of the pack and handed it to me. I refused it politely and regretted it instantly. She handed it to Gaspard who put it in between his lips.

 

"What don't we ask your new acquisition about that ?" Gaspard said looking at his instrument.

"Why? You fear that he could be better than you at the game of deduction?" She answered, leaning toward him to light up the cigarette still in between his lips.

"Let's see if your investment is worth the price you paid..." He started taking a drag of cigarette. He turned toward me. "I've got an enigma for you Mr. Dega." he breathed out, releasing the pent-up smoke captured between his lips.

I felt her eyes on me, and suddenly that enigma became the perfect occasion to impress her, to prove her what I was worth.

And with all the confidence the suit I was wearing provided me I simply answered:

"Shoot." I was looking at Gaspard, but I felt her smirk.

"A captain and a rich woman are on a boat. The woman travels with two 'sensitive parcels', the kind that could send her directly to prison if anyone would noticed them. Unfortunately, a ticket inspector thinks that he has already seen those 'sensitive parcels' somewhere and a few seconds before he can even figure out where, the captain shows up, out of nowhere. He starts to talk about his friendship with the rich woman, and since how long they know each other. Thanks to his fine words, the woman gets on board along with the 'sensitive parcels'. Nevertheless, one problem remains, the woman knows that she has never met the captain before that day. My question is now the following, what does the captain want from her, money or sex?" He asked me with a defiant look. So they were talking about the captain...

"Take your time Louis, Gaspard hasn't figure out the answer yet." She explained me, locking her eyes with mine.

"But you did?"

"I've always been better at this game than him." She retorted with a smirk.

 _She wants Papi, not you._  My mind reminded me before I could mistake our conversation for flirt.

"So, Gaspard, I'm still waiting for your answer" He took a deep breath, looked away for a second before placing his eyes back on her.

 

"Money. Share prices in the naval industry continue to be volatile. This having an impact on the whole wages of the industry the captain, despite his position, must be having a hard time at making ends meet. That's where you come in." He explained, not even breathing in between his sentences.

I had an answer, but my explanation was not as developed or as clever as his. It was not the day I was going to impress her.

"Clever." She complimented him. She turned toward me.

"So, Louis tell me, money or sex?" She asked me with a smirk. I felt my member twitch when she said that.

"Don't you think this one is a bit complicated for a little forger who has spent the last three years in penal colony?" Gaspard stated with a satisfied look. "Not that I'm underestimating him I just th..."

 

"Sex." I stated confidently interrupting him looking deeply into her eyes.

I could not tell if it was the suit, the increasing level of testosterone in my blood because of my growing erection or just her presence that was giving me so much confidence.

"Seems like I've made a good investment hiring you Mr.Dega."

 

"The best you've ever made." I simply answered. Short sentences kept me from stuttering like an idiot at the sight of that beautiful woman barely dressed in front of me.

"So, what? He just says "sex" and you take his side. You should at least wait until he gives a tangible argument. Otherwise I might take it personally.You know the rules, explanations or nothing." Gaspard contested like a child that has been beaten at his own game.

"Explanations are just an excuse for showing off." She stated calmly, her eyes lingering on my suit.

      

"I am a showoff. It's what we do." He insisted. "So now tell me, why sex and not money?"

She reluctantly took her eyes off mine I could see it.

"He gave us..." She started.

"...The number of his room." I finished, making her smirk.

 

"Shit, of course, the number of the room!" He scolded at himself.

I was proud of myself, I almost felt good until she left my sight. The pain came back as soon as she left the room to enter her bathroom.  _No matter what happened, she wants Papi, not you_. My mind reminded me once again as if the gaping hole in my chest was not enough.

I stayed there next to Gaspard, his eyes staring at nothing and his fingers subconsciously plucking at the strings of his instrument.

 

"So, we have nothing to fear from the captain?" I asked him.

"Nothing more than from any other man that crossed her path before." He simply answered still looking away and slightly smiling. All of a sudden, he snapped out of his torpor and said something so unexpected that my eyes went wide.

"I'm sorry... if I underestimated you in any way, I know that I can be very... irritating at times... if not constantly. She was right about you, you're fit for this job." He apologized.

"To a long and prosperous collaboration." I simply declared shaking his hand. I could see how hard it was for him to apologize, he had made a step toward me and I didn't want to push him away.

"And to think I was looking forward to seeing the two of you fighting to be the employee of the month."

She joked as she got out of the bathroom while putting her earrings on.

My heart dropped when I saw her. She was wearing a beautiful Y/F/C dress that I would have loved to tear apart. I was falling in love with her all over again.

"Shall we go to dinner?" She asked us, leaving me speechless as she passed her arm through mine.

**...**

 

The dining room was breathtaking, not as much as the woman I had on my arm, but enough to give me the impression of dining in a fancy Parisian restaurant although I was somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic. Chandeliers, candles, white tablecloths, crystal glasses and fine wines contributed to that perfect illusion.  
A jazz band was playing on a stage a few feet away and nothing could have made that moment more perfect.

 

It was hard not to think of the metal bowl I used to eat in, seated in the mud under the burning sun or in the ice-cold wind. Soup or bread, bread or soup. A chill ran down my spine at that thought, a part of my mind still feared to wake up and to realize that I had never left my cell.

We sat around a table for 5. I pulled Y/N's seat out for her and sat next to her, Gaspard, him, sat next to me. We were quickly joined by Bertrand and Papillon who looked like he had finally caught up all the sleepless nights he had been through. Papillon sat next to Y/N and Bertrand took the last vacant seat.

 

I would lie if I told you that seeing Papillon that close to her didn't have any effect on me. I reassured myself thinking at the moment we had just shared in her cabin before dinner, Gaspard was there but it felt kind of... intimate. Her, staring deeply in my eyes wearing nothing but a silk robe, her eyes leaving mine only to linger on my body. And even if my feelings for her were not mutual, I secretly hoped that one day I would be able to satisfy myself with that kind of moments... 

**...**

 

That dinner was probably the best I had ever had, because it was my first real meal in three years of course ( _but to be honest after 1097 days of imprisonment even rocks sprinkled with oregano would have been a delicacy_ ).  
This dinner was the best I had ever had, for one reason only, I was next to a beautiful woman, surrounded by friends sharing funny stories and dirty jokes while smoking cigars and eating the most delicious meal of my life.

"Oh, I've got to tell you about Louis' first day in prison, you'll laugh 'till it hurts." Papillon exclaimed, retaining everyone's attention. Especially hers.

"We knew we had to get ourselves a calm and not too tiring chores, thus the prison hospital sounded perfect to us. So, we went to the Goelier as soon as we set a foot in French Guiana. So... I went to that guy and... I mean it wasn't my first time in prison, so I knew how things worked there, is to say money can get you anything. We started negotiating and everything. Suddenly Dega came out of nowhere and started to talk with that guy and from what I could see the Geolier wasn't understanding a single word of all those forger's fine words."

  

So, your humble servant decided to retake things in hand because with Dega in charge of negotiations you can be sure that we would have cleaned latrines for the next three years." Everyone laughed, everyone but me knowing exactly the end of that story. "So, I negotiated with the guy and finally we worked out a deal. Next step of any transaction?"

"Payment!" Gaspard shouted.

"Exactly, my friend. The Geolier, who was in fact smarter than I thought, turned toward Dega as he had clearly understood that he was the one in charge of the money. He turned to Dega and asked him to make a 'bank withdrawal'. It took Dega almost 5 minutes to understand what the guy meant by 'bank withdrawal', even if in jail that was pretty obvious... So, when Dega finally figured out that he had to sit on the toilet..." I couldn't help but look down.

I had never felt so uncomfortable in my entire life. Was he trying to be funny? I suddenly felt Y/N's pity eyes on me. That was all I inspired her, pity.

 

"Dega started to search all around the freaking barracks for god knows what, that idiot was searching for toilets maybe even for a bidet. You should have seen his face when I explained to him that he had to take a shit in front of all the prisoners." He burst into laughter followed by Gaspard and Bertrand. Great, Y/N wanted him instead of me and if that wasn't enough he had to destroy her esteem of me. For some reason she wasn't laughing maybe she had an ounce of respect left for myself.

"Did you get to work at the hospital at least?" Bertrand asked laughing.

 

"Almost! So, the following day we were in line waiting for our attribution. We were confident as we knew we had put all stacks in our favors to work at the prison hospital. So we arrived in front of the guard in charge of attributions and before we even had to explain anything he just ordered to send both of us to the hospital." He went on.

"Clever." Gaspard complimented with that same unreadable face of his.

"Wait for the end, this prison story wouldn't be one if Dega didn't manage to screw everything up. So, we didn't lose any minute and decided to head to the hospital to start our chores. We didn't even make a few steps that the vice-warden Brioulet stopped us."

"Why?" Bertand asked mesmerized by Papi's story.

 

"Dega had sold to Brioulet's brother-in-law one of his unfortunately famous Bons de la Défense in Marseille. Dega tried to save us by explaining that, and I'm quoting his own words, 'Louis Dega is a very common name in Marseille' in vain." Y/N held back a laugh when he quoted me, this made me smile. "And in less time than it takes to say 'Marseille', Brioulet assigned us to the rail road." He finally finished.

"Brillant! What were the odds for your future guard to be the brother-in-law of one of your victims. Brillant! Simply brillant" Gaspard exclaimed enthusiastically.

 

My breathing was uneven. I felt ridiculous but there was no rescue from this embarrassment. It was absolute. Torture. Utter humiliation. The memory would be seared into my brain forever, ready to pop up and torment me again whenever I would be in a quiet moment. I excused myself and left the table. I could have sworn I felt her eyes on me as I left.

 

I arrived on the deck. I relaxed when I felt the fresh oceanic air on my face. I leant on the rail to look at the water only lit by the reflect of the moon. I took a deep breath and slowly breathed out until my breathing went back to normal. That was when I felt someone behind me. I turned around and barely recognized the familiar face in the dark night. His facial features lit by the moonlight, I quickly recognized my friend, colleague, savior?

"Do you want one Mr. Dega?" Bertrand asked handing me a cigarette.

"No thanks, Mr.?" I asked him, realizing that I still didn't know his last name.

"Desrichard, Bertrand Desrichard." He simply answered shaking my hand.

"Did Gaspard send you to check if I hadn't jumped overboard?" I asked, bitterly chuckling.

"No." He shortly answered, taking a drag off cigarette. So, his addiction to tobacco was the only reason why he was talking with me. Even in the middle of the Atlantic ocean a driver wouldn't take the risk to speak to a convict, unless he's forced to by protocol and etiquette.

 

"Mademoiselle Y/LN did." He added after a few seconds. I couldn't tell if it pleased me or if it was making me even more uncomfortable. Was she really caring for me or was she just checking on the spoil kid sulking on the deck.

"Why?" I asked out loud without even realizing it.

"She doesn't only see you as Mr. Dega, her freshly recruited accountant. She sees you as Louis the man, the man with a story, emotions, dreams... and sometimes shames, just like she doesn't only see me as Mr. Desrichard, her driver."

"What do you mean?" I realized I had not exchanged so many words with the old man since we had met.

"I've been working for her family since I'm 19, and the old man you have in front of you will celebrate his 62nd spring in May. One thing I can tell you is that out of all my employers, Mademoiselle Y/LN stays the one that always treated me with the most respect and devotion."

"So what? She's like a patron but for desperate causes?" I retorted, why was I so bitter. She was the only one who had not made fun of me earlier. Was I angry? No. I was bitter and that was worse. Angry is over fast, bitter lasts.

"It depends, do you consider yourself as a desperate cause, Mr. Dega?" He asked me on a tone that made me doubt the rhetorical nature of his question.

 

"As desperate as a man can be." I sighed holding back tears.

"Then, trust her, she offered you a second chance. You've seen her, she doesn't care about you using your rear as a wallet." He reassured me as I decided to ignore his joke.

He was right, she didn't care and that was all that counted to me. Her opinion of me. Papi was my friend, that's what friends do to each other. How could I be upset against him when he knew nothing of my feelings for Y/N.

I remembered her words on the way to the port. " _You're trustworthy, Louis. You may not see it, but I do_." I wanted to be everything she was seeing in me, and for that I had to accept everything I had been before.

I greeted the old man with a smile that was worth a hundred thank you. He nodded slightly smiling in response. I let Bertrand finish his cigarette and headed back to the dining room, close to her. I had in mind the anecdote about Papi and El Caiman, and smiled at the idea of telling them that story.

I pushed the doors of the dining room and dived back into the dimmed light and the jazzy atmosphere. That was when I saw it, and suddenly, my blood boiled in my veins.

 


	7. Hελατε

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very first Louis Dega x Reader fiction.  
> Inspired by Rami Malek in the movie Papillon (2018)
> 
> Hekate (Ekάτη), one of the three goddesses of the moon represented in Ancient Greece the full moon, symbol of change, as well as the dark moon, symbol of bad omen. When two soulmates meet at night, you can be sure that Hekate is watching them…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE, thus please report in the comments any grammar, tense or vocabulary mistakes so that I can correct it asap.
> 
> s4msepiol.  
> no copyright infringement intended.

**_Your Point of View_ **

"Captain, I am honored by your consideration but the travel exhausted me. Along with that, what a bad host I would do if I'd let my guests alone." I politely refused the captain invitation. Lame excuses I know but he caught me off-guard.

"Please miss, I've been dying to dance with you since I left you in that hallway. Just a dance, those gentlemen have had the pleasure of your company all through dinner." He insisted, making me feel more and more uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry Captain, how about another time, my next Atlantic traverse maybe ?" I added, knowing that I would never put a foot in French Guiana ever again.

I barely heard his answer as the real reason of my refusal entered the dining room, Louis. The only man I wanted to dance with on that night, in the middle of the ocean. I snapped out of my reverie when I felt a tight grip on my arm. 

And before I could even realize what was happening Louis pushed me behind him and shouted with a voice that made me flinch :

 

"Stay the fuck away from her!" The entire room went silent when he spoke. Everybody was looking atus but I couldn't stop staring at Louis. His eyes were dark, his muscles tight,his jaw clenched. His rage held all the power of a wildfire, I couldpractically see the flames roaring in his eyes, ready to ignite anything thathe would come in contact with.

The captain looked at him with eyes filled with fear. Louis' death glare caused him to step back before he started to walk away. Louis let out a sigh as he shoved his hands in his pockets. He looked back at me, his eyes still full of rage and before I could say anything, Gaspard and Papillon entered the room.

"Where the fuck were you?" He asked Papillon dryly.

"Hum... I was looking for you Dega... I wanted to... apologize for what I've said earlier..." Papillon explained but before he could finish his sentence Louis stormed out of the room. His eyes had a deadness, a stillness. He wasn't angry, he was hurt, and before my mind could convince me of the opposite I went after him.

**...**

 

"Louis, wait!" His back was to me but I saw him freeze when he heard my voice.

He stayed still, the silence between us only broken by the echo of the jazz music playing in the dining room. He was only a few feet away from me but it felt like our minds were hectares from each other.

"I'm exhausted, Mademoiselle... I'll better get to bed... tomorrow is going to be a long day." He answered low, not even looking at me. I could tell by the sound of his voice that he wasn't even convinced by what he was saying. He was hurt and I needed to know why. At that moment, nothing counted more than that, that ship could have sunk within the second, and yet it would have seemed like a detail to me.

I would have wanted to take the pain out of him, feel it for him. He wasn't looking at me but I knew the look he had, the same he had the day we had met in that prison yard, the same he had when he had recognized the ticket inspector, and for some reason, the same he had when he had entered my cabin a few hours before. Emptiness, pain, despair. And I would have given my entire fortune to erase that expression of his face forever. Still, something in me was telling me that I probably wouldn't appreciate as much his smile if I hadn't, from time to time, a glance of his pain.

"Louis... please look at me and talk to me." I asked him on a tone closer to the supplication than to the simple request. He took a deep breath and he finally looked at me. As usual his eyes were the only thing I was able to focus on.

 

He stayed still, again, looking at me. Staring had become our only form of communication. It was a contest of sorts and winning came at a price. I felt like Louis wouldn't look at me so much as through me. I got closer to him still ignoring what reason dictated me. He looked down when I did.

"Talk to me, please." I whispered as if speaking too loudly would have frightened him away.

"Are you okay Y/N?" I was pleading him to open up to me, to tell me how he felt. His shout in the dining room was still echoing in my mind. There was something in that shout, a pain behind it. The anger was nothing but a shield for pain, like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades, scared for his life, lonely, desperate. And yet, the only thing he cared about was how I felt.

"Thank you... for what you've done earlier, you didn't have to really but I'm grateful. I really am." I answered, not finding the right words to express him my gratitude. Hours and hours spent in locution and speech classes only to end up there stuttering in front of that handsome man after he had defended me against the captain, his terrible breath and his wandering hands.

"That's nothing in comparison with all you've done for me." He whispered locking his eyes with mine while tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His eyes were green. The kind of green that pushes its way through the piles of gritty snow to remind you that spring is coming. The kind of green that buds on the prisoners of winter, bringing life back to their branches. That churning, passionate green that the ocean turns during a storm. That colour of the forest after it rained. The colour of the tadpoles making ripples in the pond. That green colour that brings hope and life no matter what has happened. And looking into those eyes, I could see it. And he knew that I could.

"I better should let you get some rest, Mr. Dega." I said reluctantly, not wanting to disturb him more, even if every cells of my body ached to be with him. He looked down when I said that. His presence had a crazy effect on me, his only presence was enough for my self-confidence to shatter. When he wasn't there, I looked forward to being near him, but once he was I couldn't help but to look away, stutter, breath fast. Therefore, walk away from him seemed to be my only way out. I hated the effect he had on me.

I gathered all my courage and turned around to join my cabin. I made a few steps and froze at the sound of his voice.

"Hum... I have that old book full of... very depressing poems written by a very pretentious author that a... good friend lent me. I wanted to spend a few hours on the deck reading it...hum... if you're having a hard time at finding sleep... join me. If you want of course."

My heart panted as he spoke. How could he think that I would refuse to spend even a second near him. He really had no idea about I felt about him.

I swallowed hard when he pronounced the word "friend" speaking of me. It felt like concrete drying in my chest. That was when it hit me. Louis would never be more than my accountant. My heart tugged when I realized that it might be the only occasion I would have to be alone with him. Once in Paris, he would meet dozens of beautiful young women ready to fight to be with him. One day, he would enter my office arm in arm with one of them and announce me their soon-to-come wedding. 

 

"I'd love to." My lower lip quivered as words slowly made their way out of my mouth. "I'll meet you there, Mr. Dega."

I soon wouldn't have the 'exclusivity' of his company anymore. I had to enjoy every second I could spend with him, only the two of us. Remember that shipwreck I was talking about earlier? At that moment, it was the best thing that could have happened to me.

 

"I'll be there, Mademoiselle." By the sound of his voice, I could tell that he was smiling. It felt like a thousand years had passed since the last time I had seen him smiling.

I heard him walk away and the farther he walked the calmer was my breathing. I heard him close the door leading to the deck. He was gone.

**...**

My hands were shaking when I tried to open my cabin door, enter the key in the lock required me a herculean effort.

Our arrival in Paris was the only thing I had in mind. The minute we would set a foot in France, I would lose him. I'd become nothing more than his boss, the woman he'd see once a year for the Christmas gala. I had to enjoy every second with him. I kept repeating that sentence like a mantra.

I had to go but I had one last thing to do before. Or to take, to be exact. I opened my purse and took the last gift I had for him. One last gift for one last night. I wanted to keep that for our arrival in Paris, but the simple thought of it gave me nausea. That wasn't a gift, that was a goodbye.

**...**

 

The deck was silvered and transformed by the light of the moon, which, at the full, hung like a great luminous pearl on the radiant breast of heaven.  I didn't see him at first in the dark night. I smiled thinking of the night I had found him asleep in his cell, the dark had kept me from seeing him at first too.

He was beautiful, alone in the dark night only lit by the moon. He was staring at the ocean leant on the rail and his dark hair reflected the moonlight.

I took a deep breath and walked toward him. Have you ever felt like if you were walking toward your own end, irremediably and willingly? The shadows that had sheltered me were banished by the blinding light of scrutiny. I couldn't tell if I was about to enter the rusty gates of Hell or the golden gates of the Garden of Eden. But like the inescapable pull of gravity, there was nothing I could do about it.  

I leant against the rail next to him and stared at the ocean as it was probably the only view around that wouldn't make me stutter like a high school girl.       

A part of me would have wanted to freeze the world so that I could live in that moment for eternity. Louis, the sound of the crashing waves, the moonlight and I.

We stayed there in silent. That silence was peaceful, as peaceful as the few seconds before you fall asleep, as peaceful as the few seconds after a kiss. Still, he felt the need to break it. 

 

"You came."

"It would be a great loss if you were to pass overboard inadvertently, Mr. Dega." I answered still looking at the horizon. Jokes, irony, sarcasm were my only defenses against him, against the effect he had on me. I didn't want to spend our last night together playing with metaphors, innuendos and figures of speech. It was high time to let all my carefully and longtime erected walls collapse.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"After my little outbreak of violence in the dinning room, I wouldn't even have joined myself on that deck." He said chuckling bitterly, not taking his eyes off the horizon.  

"I found it... interesting." It was the truth, nothing but the bare truth. We were both good with fine words, him for obvious reasons, me because it was always easier to hide behind deft phrases and evocative imagery than to say out loud how you really feel, but that night it would be nothing but him, the truth and I.

 

He looked at me the second I finished my sentence.  _Shit_

"Interesting?" His eyes on me felt like gallons of water rushing into a crack on the hull of a ship. I gathered all my courage and dived my eyes into his. My lungs filled with water within the second.

"It was just... different from the idea I had of you." I simply answered, not finding any other way to express it. God, why is it always easier to find words when you lie than when you truly express your sensations, feelings, fears.

"Sorry... I just..." He started to apologize. He did that a lot.

"Don't be. It's neither bad nor good. I told you it's...just... interesting."

I hated the fact that he had caught everybody's attention in the dinning room when the success of that endeavor depended on our ability to keep a low profile. I hated the fact that he could have been hurt because of me. Still, a part of me liked the way he had defended me, there was in that shout a glimpse of a part of him I had never seen before. There was in that shout so much virility, so much anger, so much tension that it could have aroused me if I hadn't been fully focused on him not getting punched in that perfect face of his.

"It's not me... I mean I wasn't like that...before. Before all of this. Prison changed me." He said low, I could read pain written in bold in his ocean eyes.

"People change Mr.Dega sometimes for the better, sometimes not, yet I don't see a ounce of vice in you" It was hard. Probably the hardest thing I had ever done, telling someone else what you think without any filter on.

 

"You've been aware that I've been convicted to 15 years of imprisonment for fraud and counterfeiting, don't you?" He joked as if it would prove anything about him.

"And you've already been aware of my opinion on forger, don't you?" I reminded him, making him smile.

 

"I must admit that it would have been a great help that to have you among the juries on that day." It would have. The only crime I would have convicted him of would have been indecency. Such a man couldn't spend his time tempting me to commit the sin of flesh and get away with it.

He looked back at the ocean and losing his gaze burnt me to the core. I know, paradoxical. Philosophers say that love is the alternation between the presence and the absence, that had never seemed so true to me.

"... I guess that I wouldn't have met you if things had been different, if I hadn't been convicted guilty..." He added. My heart sank as his sentence echoed in my mind. I had no other answer than sarcasm this time.

"I know that I'm a remarkable woman Mr. Dega, but to compare me with 15 years of freedom... that might be a bit exaggerated, don't you think?"

He chuckled and that was all I wanted to hear. I noticed that he was breathing following the pace of the crashing waves on the hull. It made me smile, but his voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

 

"Là, tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté..." ("There, all is order and beauty only...") He started.

"Luxe, calme et volupté..." ("Splendor, peace, and pleasure.") I finished, unable not to smile at his words. "I thought I was the only one able to quote Baudelaire on this side of the Atlantic."

"I read through it a bit. You lied." A chill ran down my spine and it had nothing to do with the slight night wind.

My first reflex had been to look at him. For the first time since we had met I didn't look away, I searched for anger in his eyes, anything that could explain what he had just said. What did he mean? And before I could think more or answer anything he spoke:

"Baudelaire wasn't just depressed... he was in love, deeply in love." He finished, allowing me to breath at the same time.

"I guess I missed that part." I was wordless. What was his point? Suddenly he took a step back and frowned.

 

"Y/N you're cold..."  He said looking at me covered in goosebumps and shaking like the reed in a harmonica. "Here... take this." Louis said taking off his jacket.

"No, then you will be cold."

"Perhaps a little, but I would have the reward of chivalry, which is worth the price of a few chills. Please, I insist." He insisted, with a warm smile that was enough to increase my body temperature of a few degrees.

Louis then draped his jacket around my shoulders. His hand lingered at my shoulder. I reached for the collar to pull the jacket down and our hands touched briefly, which quickened my breath.

"Thank you, Louis"

We stayed there in silence, our eyes piercing the horizon as if we were trying to see the French coasts from where we were. Each silent second felt like a stab in my heart, like if I was not fully enjoying our last moment together.

"What did you mean earlier by 'prison changed me?'" I wanted to know the Louis that I had never met.

He looked down as to gather the courage to speak. He looked back at me and handed me his hand. I took his hand in mine without hesitation which seemed to surprise him more than me. We sat on the deck, our backs against the rail. I didn't care, and he knew it.

 

"Come here, Y/N" He said low, wrapping his arm around my shoulder taking me closer to him, gesture that made me flinch.

"Sorry... That was inappropriate... I shouldn't ha..." He apologized, not knowing how bad my jaw hurt from trying to hold back a smile.

"Thank you, Louis." I interrupted him. I didn't want to ruin that moment by overthinking everything he did. I decided to do nothing but enjoy the sudden proximity of our bodies, the heat of his body warming mine up.

"You should really stop thanking me Y/N, I'll never be grateful enough for what you've done for me."

"You should really stop apologizing then, Louis." He chuckled in response but soon his expression faded.

 

"On the first night on the boat taking us to French Guiana... a prisoner... killed the man sleeping next to me... for his money. I can't tell what frightened me the most, seeing him disemboweled there next to me or knowing that the guards were complicit in that murder. A few bills, and they accepted to look away long enough for that man to be killed. A few bills, according to them that was that man's life worth." He explained me, his eyes lost in the emptiness of the night sky. He went on. 

"The following night, the same prisoner..." He stopped for a second, I could see in his eyes that he remembered every single detail as he spoke. "The same prisoner tried to... kill me."

"I'm sorry Louis, I shouldn't have asked, that's not..." I didn't want him to cross an implicit barrier only because I asked him to, but because he wanted to. 

"Please, I never told anyone about this... I... I never wanted to tell anyone about this but you're... different..." I gave him a warm smile in response.

"Go on, Louis, please." I asked him, taking his hand in mine. He squeezed mine in response.

"Without Papi, I wouldn't be here on that deck next to you. I owe him almost as much as I owe you. And this is only one example among so many others. I feared other prisoners , and he punched them. Pathetic, isn't it?" He said chuckling bitterly.

"Fear is wisdom in the face of danger. It is nothing to be ashamed of, Louis."

 

"How do you do that? How do you always find the exact words to make me feel better Y/N?" He asked me with that dreadful smile of his. I smiled in response, what else could I do. 

"I probably should send Blondie a basket then, I would have never met you without him." Suddenly he let go off my hand and frowned. You know that feeling when your dream slightly turns into a nightmare, you feel that something is wrong, but you don't realize it until you wake up panting and sweaty in your bed. That was how I felt when he broke the contact of our hands.

 

"What did you just say?" He asked puzzled.

"I should... probably send Papillon a basket?" I repeated not fully understanding why.

"Y/N repeat exactly what you just said. Please."

"I probably should send Blondie a basket then, I would have never met you without him." I repeated word for word hoping that maybe in exchange he would take my hand back in his. "...sorry Louis, did I say anything wrong?"

"Don't be, Y/N. You said nothing wrong." He took my hand back in his and by the way he looked at me I knew that he was trying to figure out if it disturbed me or not. "It's like if every step, every decision I took in my life... led me here." He wasn't talking to me, he was thinking out loud.

"Butterfly effect, Mr. Dega, the fact that your best friend calls himself Papillon is pretty ironic." I stated while standing up. He needed to get some rest, the next day would be long. For me, more than for him. I loved him. That night just confirmed everything I was trying to deny. 

I was slowly but surely falling for Mr. Louis Dega.

**_Louis Point of View_ **

My heart tugged when we arrived in front of our cabins. That perfect moment was over, yet I couldn't help but smile.

"Thank you for tonight, Mr Dega." She thanked me once again, giving me my jacket back. Her perfume had impregnated the material, and I relaxed even more when I noticed it.

 

"The pleasure was mine, Mademoiselle." I had spent the best night of my life by her side. I had had the occasion to talk with her about things I never thought I'd be able to express.

My mind was full of thoughts and I knew that I wouldn't be able to think about that night properly if I stayed near her. I was going to enter my cabin when she stopped me:

"Louis, wait... I have something for you." She said handing me a wrapped package.

"I can't, Mademoiselle, all you done... this is too much."

"Please, I insist. Open it." She asked me with a warm smile.

"You'll thank Blondie by the way..." She said when I started to open the gift. "... He told me during dinner that you had left yours in your cell." She finished when I finally got rid of the wrapping paper.

_A sketchbook._

Just like the one I had left in prison. The paper smell brought me back to Paris and was enough for me to guess that it was of a better quality than the one I was used to.

"Don't, please." She said before I even had the occasion to thank her. She placed a soft kiss on my cheek.

"Goodnight, Mr. Dega."

 

"Goodnight, Mademoiselle."

**...**

 

_I couldn't sleep._

I had been laying in that comfortable bed for more than two hours but it seemed that Morpheus didn't want to take me away that night. I kept rolling over in bed thinking it must be morning only to learn that it was fifteen minutes later than the last time I had looked at the clock. My body was tired but my mind was fully awake, no, not awake. Obsessed. My mind was obsessed with one single idea. I had a chance.

I had a chance, a minuscule chance but that shred of hope was enough to make me the happiest man on earth. She was either in love with Papi or me as both of us gave her the possibility to meet the other one. Me by insisting on bringing him with us, him by keeping me alive long enough for me to cross her path. I would either end broken in pieces or madly happy and both of those ideas, kept me awake that night.

So, I did the exact same thing I used to do in prison when it was the case. I got up, took Y/N's gift in my drawer, pencils in my trunk and drew all night long. Every single thing that passed through my mind that night I put it on paper. I drew again and again until my wrist hurt, until the back of my hand was covered with graphite, until I heard seagulls outside, until sunrays passed through the window of my cabin...

 


	8. Diσηγsσs Δcτ I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very first Louis Dega x Reader fiction.  
> Inspired by Rami Malek in the movie Papillon (2018)
> 
> Dionysos (Διόνυσος), the god of wine and opulence. A cabaret in the City of Lights, two lovers, a lot of alcohol. That’s all it takes for Dionysos to be embodied in this chapter of Champs Elysées in two acts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE, thus please report in the comments any grammar, tense or vocabulary mistakes so that I can correct it asap.
> 
> s4msepiol.  
> no copyright infringement intended.

**_Louis Point of View_ **

"Ladies and gentlemen, I have the pleasure to announce you that we officially entered in french waters. We should arrive in the Havre port in an hour. Please gather your personal effects in the meantime. The breakfast will be served in the dining room."

The voice of the captain on the deck was enough for my knuckles to whiten from clenching my fists too hard in an effort to remain silent. Fortunately, the memory of Y/N and I on that exact same deck the night before was enough for my breathing to calm down from the anger. Where was she?

I decided to go breakfast hoping I might see my muse there. I hadn't slept in almost two days, last time being in the car on the way to the port on her shoulder, and if I wanted to survive that day I had to eat a bit. I was so close to my freedom that the closer the ship was getting to the french coasts, the more nervous I was. If that was a dream, I would have killed the man who would have tried to wake me.

 

I arrived in the dining room and noticed a woman whispering something to her friend when she saw me. I had forgotten about my little show of the previous night.

Shame was quickly replaced by disappointment when I saw no one but Papi at our table. Disappointment being quickly replaced by guilt when I remembered that I had stormed out of the dinning room in the middle of his apologies.

I sat down and tried to avoid his gaze as much as I could. Not that I feared him, but things were different then, we were not in prison anymore. If we were in jail, I would have just given him my bread ration, he would have made a dumb joke, and we would have been cool. But we weren't in jail anymore. That part of our lives was behind us, for good I hoped. 

 

"You need to taste one of those croissants Dega!" He said in between two bites in the french viennoiserie. That was why we were friends, among other things, because he was the less vindictive person I had ever met. He had apologized, it was my turn. 

"Hum... Papi... I wanted to apo... Sorry for yesterday I shouldn't..."

"Dega, don't. We're cool man, I shouldn't have made those stupid jokes yesterday. You know how I am when I have an audience, even more with a beauty such as your new boss."

I didn't answer and looked down my plate. I grabbed a bite of croissant not for him to notice my jaw clenched by jealousy. He didn't know. I then felt his eyes on me and...  _Shit_

 

"Shit! I knew it. You love her!" He shouted, almost spitting crumbs out of his mouth.

 

"Could you speak a bit lower please." I asked him, whispering.

"I knew it!" He repeated whispering. " Dega, man, when are you going to tell her?"

"Probably never, what do you want me to do, just smile and declare 'Thanks for taking me out of prison, thanks for hiring me because I would have probably ended homeless living under a Seine bridge without you. What about spending the rest of our lives together ?' Come on Papi, let's be realistic for a minute." I sputtered without even breathing in between my sentences.

It was the truth, she had already given me so much, I couldn't ask her for more. 

"Louis, don't... do that." He never called me Louis, unless the situation was serious enough for him to. Fuck, I hadn't slept and it was too early in the morning for a lecture, especially coming from the greatest thief of Paris. "In a few hours, we'll finally be free men but that doesn't mean that we have to go back to our old lives. Have you ever asked yourself what you would have done of your life if even one of our escape attempts had succeeded?"  

"I never wanted to think about this. You have always been the dreamer Papi while I have always had trouble seeing hope in hopelessness. It only made the time they caught us back ten times harder to swallow. What about you?"  

"The day they arrested me, a few minutes before they broke down my door, I was in bed with Nenette. She was pleading me to leave everything we had behind and to buy a little house in the countryside, we would live there, honestly, surrounded by our children and grandchildren..." He smiled when he told me that but his expression faded as he went on. "I should have listened to her, she loved me, I loved her, we were young, and we had the money but of course it wasn't enough for me... so I asked her to wait 6 more months, for me to gather more money and as soon as I said that they burst in, cuffed me and took me away from her, from the dream we had."

 

"You never told me this." We had been friends for three years, we slept next to each other every night, but we had never talked about that, about the exact moment our lives ceased to be what they were to become what they are. I can't even tell at which moment my life took that lethal shift. Was it the day I decided to create those Faux-Bons de la Défense? Was it the day I first sold one in Lyon? Was it the day I married a woman who was only interested by money? Was it the day I resigned from my job in Y/N's father's company only to provide my wife a life that the wage of an humble accountant couldn't afford?  

 

"If even one of our attempts had succeeded I would have searched for Nenette no matter how long it would have taken and I would have convinced her to realize our dream." I could read pain in his eyes. "What I want you to understand is that I saw you change Dega, when we met you were that sickly boy who stumbled on everything and couldn't make it through a day without me having to punch someone for you not to be ripped open" I chuckled when he said that "but prison changed you. I saw how you beat El Caiman two weeks ago when he tried to steal your food. I didn't even have to intervene. Yet, I also saw you shared your ration with Maturette when Celier took his. You changed, and thank god, for the better. You're not the same man anymore, nothing forces you to go back to your old life. We had been given a second chance, don't waste it. If you love her, then tell her."

We had never had such a deep conversation, still every words coming out from his mouth went directly to my mind, to my heart. He was right. It killed me to admit it but that thief was speaking truth.

"You're not going to tell me that you're not interrested in her?" My leg was tapping from anxiety.

"I'm not gonna lie, she's beautiful and she saved my life."  _Please tell me there is a "but_ ". "Yet..."  _Close enough_. "I'm probably a fool for thinking that, but a part of me hopes that Nenette waited for me, just like she promised. Enough self-pity. If you love her, then tell her. It's a miracle she's not married yet. I'm sure many men in Paris are as interested in her as you are. Don't wait for too long Dega."

His words echoed in my mind as we went back to our breakfast. Suddenly, I was not hungry anymore. What if he were right? What if once in Paris we would both go back to our lives; would I be nothing more than one of her employees? And before I could get more nervous, I felt a hand on my shoulder and my mind went mute. I looked at Papi and by his smirk I could tell whose hand was it.

 

" I want to show you something." I'd recognize her voice in a thousand. She was beautiful. Told you, today was going to be a good day. I stood up and was going to follow her when I was stopped by her voice :

"Blondie, you might want to see it too." She added, and by his satisfied look I could tell he was taking a malicious pleasure in spoiling mine.

**...**

We arrived on the deck that was full of people. I couldn't help but smiling at the thought of the previous night.  
A bit farther stood Gaspard and Bertrand, we joined them. We all leant on the rail next to them and stared at the horizon.

"What am I even supposed to look at because I.... Fuck." Papi interrupted himself at the sight of something I obviously wasn't seeing. She must have noticed my confusion because she took my chin in between her fingers and turned my face toward what they were all seeing.

French coasts.

 

I subconsciously took her hand in mine as if I would have sunk if I hadn't.   
From where we were we could see a glance of the port and smoke emanating from the factories around. We could almost hear the hum of the busy city from there... At that moment, the only thing that kept me on the ground was the touch of our hands, she was my anchor.

**...**

Everything after that happened so quickly. And before I could even realize it the ship dropped anchor, and I was on the gangway with Y/N on my arm waiting for us to get ashore. It was surreal. One thing I couldn't understand was how differently Papi and I were reacting. We had been through the exact same hell, yet our reactions were diametrically opposed.

He couldn't stay still while the only thing distinguishing me from a marble statue was my chest rising and falling unevenly. He couldn't remain silent for more than a minute while I had almost forgotten the sound of my own voice.

_It was almost our turn._

Papi rushed toward the land, leaving us there and pushed without noticing it other passengers earning by doing so, a few insults. Y/N couldn't help but laugh and I would probably have done the same if my heart wasn't going to explode in my chest.  
Why was I so nervous?

We arrived at the end of the gangway. I was a step away from my freedom.I felt a twinge at my heart, that step would also put an end to that travel. I froze in panic and looked at my feet. Maybe I didn't want that travel to end.

_It was our turn._

Y/N squeezed my hand as if she could read my thoughts. I looked in her eyes, took a deep breath and put a foot on the ground.

_We were in France, at last._

**...**

**_Your Point of View_ **

 

"Do you have any aces?" Papi asked me, probably hoping that as a woman I didn't know anything about poker.

"Yes, ace of spades." I decided to play his game.

"Seriously?"

"No." I retorded. Louis' laugh almost made me lose my poker face.

 

"Nice try , Papi." Louis said dealing cards. My eyes were attracted to him like moths to fire. We had been in that train to Paris for a few hours then, chatting, smoking and playing poker.

I was facing Louis, Gaspard was facing Papi. Bertrand, him decided to stay a few days in the Havre to spend some time with his family. I smiled thinking of the goodbye moment between him and the boys.

 

"So Mademoiselle Y/LN, are you in or are you out?" Louis asked me with a defiant look.

"Hum... I'm in and I raise you 20, Mr. Dega."

 

"Risky, Mademoiselle. Gaspard?"

"I'm totally tapped, would you consider taking my watch?" Gaspard answered.

"I hate to keep bleeding you, Gaspard, but I have to raise it 10." Papi retorded. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, I fold." Gaspard admitted.

"I thought such a smart man as you Gaspard would be able to count cards." Papi taunted him.

"I used to, but Y/N would always notice it." Louis smirked when he said that.

"Full house." Papillon proudly said throwing his hand on the table.

"Straight flush." I stated revealing my hand.

"Oh come on...Dega you better be sure about this." Papillon scolded.

 

"Royal flush." Louis smirked revealing his cards.

"That's my boy!" Blondie shouted, catching everybody's attention in the rail-car.

"How did you learn to play?" Louis asked me. The sunrays coming through the window beamed his face.

"When I was younger, Gaspard and my brother / cousin often played but for a stupid reason they always refused to teach me. So, years ago, during my studies I met that guy in London and trust me he was very good, and he taught me how to play in exchange for some sexual favors."

"Seriously?" Papillon asked dumbfounded.

"No." God, Louis' laugh was beautiful. "My father taught me years ago." 

 

"Next Stop : Paris, Gare d'Austerlitz, next stop : Paris, Gare d'Austerlitz." The ticket inspector shouted in the rail-car. I saw Louis' face darken when he heard that.

 

"Why the long face, Louis? Don't tell me you know that ticket inspector from somewhere."

"No, no it's... nothing important Y/N." He was avoiding my gaze, he was lying.

 

**...**

**_Louis' Point of View_ **

"Ready?" Y/N asked me in front of the gates of the train station.

I didn't want to seem ungrateful but that wasn't in my opinion the beginning of anything, just the end of something really, really pleasant. We were in Paris. It was all I had been dreaming of for the last three years and yet, it was hard for me to be happy about it. The worst being that I hadn't the faintest idea of what would happen next. Would we all say goodbye to each other in a few minutes ? Would I go back home even if I ignored where 'home' was? Wait... That wasn't true, I knew exactly where home was, and recently 'home' came down to one person. The woman I had my eyes upon. I took a deep breath and simply answered :

"Ready." 

As soon as we crossed the doors and arrived outside, what I saw took my breath away.

 

The city spread around me, and the world suddenly felt so wide and free that I wanted to jump. The streets were lively and bustling with people. A child selling newspaper could be heard in the distance. The baker eagerly advertised his bread and patisserie, and the only smell emanating from the bakery carried me back to my childhood. Lovers chased each other through the streets.

Lights glittered everywhere just liked stars dropping to the earth, huge and small buildings collided in a mixture of shadow and geometry, tiny vehicles rushing along tangled lines of streets creating twisting threads of light - they all intertwined together in a magnificent mess of dream. A breathtaking, marvelous, almost frightened dream that made me feel like some fake, unlucky living thing. 

**_Your Point of View_ **

I couldn't help but smile at the sight of Louis' expression. He seemed like a child in front of a circus show.

Once him and Papillon came back down to earth, we all stayed there in silent, staring at each other.

"So... What do we do now?" Papillon asked. Louis looked down instantly.

"Y/N and I still have some business, concerning the two of you, to take care of, but nothing forces you to come with us thus if you want... you're free to g-."

 

"I'll go with you." Louis instantly answered almost interrupting Gaspard. I was having a very hard time at figuring out what he really wanted.

"And where Dega goes I go, at least, until I get myself a glass of whisky." Blondie declared, patting his friend's back.

**...**

 

"When you said 'paperwork' I thought you meant it... literally." Louis said me when we arrived in front of one of my properties. Not the one I was the proudest about, but probably the only one where I could take care of the kind of business I had to take care of that night.

"I did."

"So... what are we doing in front of... a cabaret?" He asked even more confused than he was initially.

"Oh, the cabaret is just a... birthday gift from... my brother / cousin. What I care about is... someone inside."

I looked at Louis who was crying from laughing.

 

"Your brother / cousin offered you a ...." He stopped as he was overcome by another laughter.

"My brother / cousin is, as you might agree, one of a kind." I retorted before pushing the doors open.  
  


_to continue in the part II of Dionysos._


	9. Diσηγsσs Δcτ II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very first Louis Dega x Reader fiction.  
> Inspired by Rami Malek in the movie Papillon (2018)
> 
> Dionysos (Διόνυσος), the god of wine and opulence. A cabaret in the City of Lights, two lovers, a lot of alcohol. That’s all it takes for Dionysos to be embodied in this chapter of Champs Elysées in two acts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE, thus please report in the comments any grammar, tense or vocabulary mistakes so that I can correct it asap.
> 
> s4msepiol.  
> no copyright infringement intended.

**_Louis' Point of View_ **

 

The place awakened all my senses, if I had had a brush between my fingers at that moment I would have spent eternity painting what I was witnessing.

The music was so loud that it made my skin tingle and my lungs feel like mush. The bass thumped in time with my heart beat as though they were one, filling me from head to toe with music. I liked that song. The heady smell of tobacco mixed with alcohol was enough to intoxicate me. I didn't know where to look, my eyes wandered between crystal chandeliers, the burgundy tapestry, the singers on the stage and the topless women walking around the place. I quickly looked down at the sight of the latters.

The place was crowded and I almost lost the track of Papi and Y/N when we slunked off toward the bar.

"What can I get you, Mademoiselle Y/LN?" The bartender asked, taking our order before the ones of people that were already waiting.

"Nothing for me tonight, but pour these gentlemen a glass of your best bottle." She answered while Papi and I sat on stools. At those words, the bartender entered into a complex ballet implying him, the shaker and his ability to catch it back after throwing it in the air.

I looked behind my shoulder to watch her walk away. Even in the middle of such a place I only had eyes for her.

 

She walked toward a table on a corner of the room. A man was sitting at that table with two topless women on his lap. He was talking loudly and from where I was I could see the women fakelaughing at his jokes. As soon as he saw Y/N his expression changed. He waved for the two women to leave, which they did not without confusion.

Y/N sat next to him, and suddenly I couldn't hear anything. I couldn't tell if it was because of the music or if that man who was so loud a second before, decided, all of a sudden to speak low.  
I watched them, trying to be discrete by hiding myself with whoever passed in front of the bar. Papi him was engaged in a fierce debate with the bartender about rum and whiskey.

Y/N was still speaking with that man. After a few minutes he took out of his briefcase a small envelope and put it on the table before making it slide to where Y/N was sitting. She opened it, looked at the content and took it. They shook hands and she left. I quickly turned back myself toward the bar as she walked toward us.

"So... I've got an ID card and a passport for Mr. Louis Dega." She said sitting next to me before taking the documents out of the envelope and handing them to me. "And the exact same thing for... drumroll Gaspard please... " she said before finally discovering Papi's real name. "Mr.... Henri Charrière?"

 

"Henri Charrière? That's your real name Papi?" I had forgotten over time that Papi wasn't his name.

"Yeah, what did you think? That after the 'write full name' mention on my ID my parents had drawn a butterfly?" He said, choking me with his arm.

"I'll stick to Blondie if you don't mind 'Henri'." Y/N retorted handing him his papers.

"Are those real?" Pap...Henri asked while scrutinizing his passport.

Y/N's mouth remained silent but her eyes were more expressive than any words. She smirked, gave me a defying look and in a single glance, I knew. I couldn't help but smirk back when I understood. We had that ability to understand each other without a word said.

Feeling her eyes on me boosted my self-confidence. All of a sudden, Papi's simple question was way more than just a question.

 

I readjusted my glasses and exposed the passport to the light of the chandelier above us. My eyes searched for the smallest detail that could betray that the small booklet I had in hand was the masterpiece of a counterfeiter in his basement or if it was the work of a civil servant in a Paris city hall.

 

"They're real. There's no doubt." I finally stated.

"How did you get those?" Papi asked suspiciously. I chuckled when he did. So what ? Suddenly he had become a stickler for law. Prison definitely changes you.

"A friend owed me." She shortly answered, taking a sip of the glass Gaspard handed her. Shit, why didn't I think about that?

"So we're good now?" Papi insisted. He was like me, he couldn't believe that we were finally free.

"We made sure your records were cleared, you now have brand-new and legal papers, so as long as you keep a low profile, you should be, yes." She said lost in her thoughts subconsciously mixing her drink with a swizzle.

**_Your Point of View_ **

 

I was lost in my thoughts when something caught my attention. The song the man on the stage was singing was Gaspard's favorite. I smiled at that thought.

"You've got to dance with me on that one Y/N, either that or I accept the job offer the Martin brothers made me." Gaspard said.

"You won't." I stated taking the hand he was offering me.

"Why? They pay more and I probably won't have to cross the ocean for them to free two criminals only because it's funnier than to hold job interviews."

"The elder one is an idiot and the youngest an alcoholic. Not a dream job from what I can see."

"Mademoiselle, I have to admit that your arguments have always been really convincing." He retorted before leading me to the dance floor.

**_Louis' Point of View_ **

"You're an idiot." Papi declared while trying to drink the last drop of his glass of whiskey. I stood up and went behind the bar to fill his glass.

 

"I know." I answered low while looking at them dancing. I was an idiot.

"Then you're even more idiot than I thought." He said while nodding at me to fill his glass."Do you love her?" I chuckled bitterly in response.

"Then stop worrying about what she will think of you if you do this or that, if you say this or that because... it hasn't really been... conclusive until now." He went on, carefully choosing his words not to hurt me. Fuck, he had never done that before, he must have understood how important she was to me.

"And what do you want me to do? To come and tell her that I fell in love with her the minute I saw her, that I'm freaking out at the idea of leaving her in a few hours , that I jerked off to her the minute I ended up alon-"  _Did I say that out loud?_

 

"You did what?"  _Fuck._ Thank god the music was too loud for anyone besides Papi to hear me. "Shit Dega, not wasting any time, are you?" He said laughing. I would have wanted to convince myself that he was laughing because of the rate of ethanol in his veins but if one of us held his liquor it was Papi.

"Come on, don't look at me like that. After three years that's probably the first thing I would have done too if I hadn't fallen asleep the minute I got in my cabin." I didn't answer, but just glared silently at him. "Wait... That's not what I meant... I mean I would have thought of Nenette... obviously." He corrected.

"Four." I corrected him as well.

"What?"

"Four years." I noted staring at the bottles behind the bartender.

"Shit! Haven't you been married during another life?"

"I already told you about the kind of woman I married, it happened once to keep up appearances and it appears that the first time was also the last... and... and" I explained running my finger along the rim of my glass. Words were coming out of my mouth like smoke out of a bonfire, catching your attention at first and then slowly getting lost in the air of the dark night. That was probably my first and last drink with Papi thus I felt like all I could say wouldn't matter.

"And as you're not the kind of man that insists, you just dealt with it, didn't you?" He finished my sentence, finding the exact words surprisingly.

"I am an idiot." I sighed at the sight of her laughing at whatever Gaspard could have said.

 

"It's cool man, you know it's just like riding a bike or... in your case counterfeiting, you don't forget."

"I wasn't worried about... that, you asshole,"  _Was I_? "I was talking about inviting her to dance."

"Oh. Well... the night, from what I see, is far from being over..."

**...**

**_Your Point of View_ **

 

My eyes were going back and forth up to the clock above the stage. Why was it even there? Why would anyone need a clock in a cabaret. That was the kind of place where time and all its tangible occurrences vanished.

"You like this song?" Louis asked me, getting closer for me to hear him. Why was he always catching me off-guard.

"Sorry, what?" My confidence melted away like snow in the sun when he was near me.

"You've been mouthing the lyrics since the beginning of the song." He whispered in my ear, feeling his hot breath so close to my neck gave me goosebumps.

"Sorry... I didn't even notice I was doi-."

 

"May I have this dance, mademoiselle?" Louis interrupted me, leaving me wordless.

Have you ever heard of survival instinct? According to scientists when a prey comes to cross its natural predator way, its body dictates it nothing but to run. Every need, every desire of the animal vanishes to be replaced by that biological instinct.

"I'd love to." I said taking the hand he offered me and followed him.

_I guess that instinct was absent in me..._

**_..._ **

When he placed his hand on my hip, it felt like it had been shaped for no other hand but his. There was an ounce of shyness when he did that made me smile. His other hand went to mine naturally, like two old lovers that recognize each other. Our feet moved naturally to the sound of the double bass.

"So tell me, how did you do it?" He asked me with a smirk.

I gave him an inquiring glance in response.

"For the 'paperwork'."

"Oh. That man is despite appearances more attracted by gentlemen than he is by women." I answered before he made me spin on myself.

"So you blackmail him?" He asked once I was facing him again while we made a step back.

"Your esteem for myself is even lower than I thought. I introduce him to some of my friends." I retorted before he spun me around again but this time he stopped me in a way that my back was against his chest. I slightly turned my face only to lock my eyes with his.

"Don't get me wrong, you may be the person I have the most esteem for. Nothing but a good old quid pro quo thus?" He whispered to my ear. My knees went weak at the sound of his voice.

"Supply and demand, Mr. Dega." There was a tangible tension between the two of us, and I was unable to tell when or who started it but it pleased me.

"Supply and demand is more about commitment than trade." He answered. "How can he be sure that you won't report him?"

"For the exact same reason you followed me that night in your cell. He trusts me." I declared.

"I said 'commitment' not 'trust', Mademoiselle."

"Sorry, I tend to forget how well it turned out the last time you 'committed' yourself to someone else." That question burnt my lips since I had read "married" on his file.

"If you're referring to the farce that was my wedding. Then yes, that's the worst decision I've ever made. She was venal and cupid. I only married her for my father to please an old friend of his. When I've been arrested she promised me that she would find a solution and negotiate my liberation before Christmas, I believed her and held on to that idea during my first year in prison. I then learnt that she had married my lawyer and spent all my wealth."

"Yet, you decided to commit yourself to me?"

"I didn't. I trust you, that's different." He stated before going on. "Enough, my turn."

"That's not how it works." I eluded trying to avoid whatever question he had. I didn't know what he was going to ask me and it made me nervous. Either that or the proximity of our bodies that were then millimeters from each other.

"Supply and demand, Mademoiselle." He retorted with a mischievous smile. The smell of his perfume kept me from thinking properly.

"Are you engaged to Gaspard or anyone else Y/N?" His breath hitched in his throat before he asked that. I felt his grip on my hip tightening.

"Gaspard? He's into that British doctor for two years now. And I'm having a very hard time at finding a man that doesn't annoy me after 3 days. Boring question, Mr Dega." The song was almost over and I didn't want that perfect moment to end, just like the night before on the deck.

"How fortunate for me, then..." He noted before making me spin the exact same way he did before. My back was now pressed against his chest just like before. "to have the pleasure of your company for almost one week now." The feeling of his lips whispering next to my ear and the feeling of his hands on me made something flutter, hot and urgent, deep in my belly.

That was a fight for dominance and I wanted to win. He made me spin one more time, made a step forward thinking that I would too, but he didn't know that song as much as I did. I locked my eyes with his and in a single glance, he knew what I was going to do. And within a second my leg was against his side, his warm hand on my bare thigh.

"I already told you that I do not surround myself with second-bests." I whispered in his ear while the singer finished her high note. He panted not taking his eyes off mine...

 

**...**

 

"So... Here we are, Louis." Why did he have to call me Louis, like if I wasn't already aware of the sadness of the situation.

"I guess, Papi." The music coming from inside the cabaret echoed behind me and was cynically contrasting with that moment.

"Hum... Don't screw this up, like you always do." He said showing Y/N speaking with Gaspard farther away against the cab.

"I won't. So what are you going to do now?" Fuck, I couldn't find anything better to say.

"Hum... I have a few ideas of places where to look for Nenette, she has some family in Bourgogne. I can start with that."

"I really hope you'll find everything you're looking for."

 

A defeaning silence followed my sentence. He was my best friend, he had saved my life more times than I could count, and I had no ideas what to tell him now that we were saying goodbye. I missed words. Cruelly.

"There's something I wanted to give you..." He started looking for something in his pockets. "I always wanted to give it to you in such a moment, I guess I just never thought it would happen." He finished, handing me a small piece of paper. I unfolded it.

"I looked at it everytime I wanted to beat the hell out of you for a reason or another... It helped me at remembering that I wasn't only protecting you, that you did too... in your manner." He explained chuckling while I read the message on it.

 

_"There will be a coconut in your bucket everyday from now on."_

"You kept it all this time?" I asked him dumbfounded.

"Yes." I hugged him hoping that it would be more expressive than a thousand words.

 

"Thank you Papi."

"Thank you, Dega." He thanked me as I let him go.

"Your taxi is waiting for you, Papillon." I heard Gaspard say behind me.

"Here take this, my address is inside if you need anything just write me." Y/N said giving him a brown and thick envelope.

"Thank you Y/N, for everything." Papi said. "Promise me you'll take a good care of him." He asked her, showing me. I hoped for Y/N or Gaspard to have one of their famous half cynical half funny sentences but nothing came out of her mouth but a :

"I will. I promise. Take care of yourself, Papillon." She promised before hugging him. Papi then shook hands with Gaspard.

 

"Don't lose it." He told me speaking of the precious piece of paper I was holding hard in my fist, before getting in the cab.

The car started, Papi rolled down the window and the last thing I heard from him that night was his loud shout in the dark Parisian and empty streets :

**_"I'LL MISS YOU, YOU DIRTY LITTLE FORGER!"_ **

I chuckled as I watched the car and the sound of his voice disappear in the dark night.

**...**

I did all I could to regain my composure before turning back toward Gaspard and Y/N. 

"Gaspard do you know where I could find a bus at this hour that could bring me back to the 7th arrondissement ?" I asked thinking that I had abused her hospitality for too long. So there we were, goodbyes.

They looked down when I asked.

"Hum... Mr. Dega... I'm sorry to announce you that your apartment in the 7th as been sold one year ago by your wi- ex wife."

"We had thought that maybe you could sleep at my apartment, just the time for Gaspard to find you something appropriate in the center of Paris, only if you want to of course." Y/N asked me.

 

"I'd love to."


	10. Mσπphευs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very first Louis Dega x Reader fiction.  
> Inspired by Rami Malek in the movie Papillon (2018)
> 
> Morpheus (μορφή), the son of Sleep, and the god of dreams. The name signifies the fashioner or moulder, because he shaped or formed the dreams which appeared to the sleeper. The first night of Louis in Paris could be less calm than planned…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE, thus please report in the comments any grammar, tense or vocabulary mistakes so that I can correct it asap.
> 
> s4msepiol.  
> no copyright infringement intended.

**__ **

**_Louis Point of View_ **

I was finally free, body and soul.

The hardest part of prison had always been that little by little even your mind ends handcuffed. And that cell is the hardest to escape from. That cell seemed so real for so long that I never even checked to see if the walls were solid. I could hear screams from other cells, and they paralyzed me from even pushing on the door. Then one spring day a brilliant light of dawn shone in. She shone in. I stood and put my hand on the bars. With a prayer I pushed with all my might and after a brief flash of pain the prison cell itself was left behind me on a hill. From the outside it was tiny, pathetic. After so long crouched in the dark I stood up and let the light warm my skin, my black hair flowing in a heavenly wind. Finally, free, body and soul...

**...**

The three of us were having a last drink on Y/N's apartment balcony, with a breathtaking view on Paris and I couldn't imagine at that moment a better way to end that perfect day. From where I was I could see the Eiffel Tower, the Trocadero and the Arc of Triumph. Still, none of the seven wonders of ancient and modern world would have mesmerized me as much as the woman I had my eyes on.

"One more thing Louis, I almost forgot. You need to avoid Dupont from the financial service as much as you can, he would always try to get you babysit his children." Gaspard explained me cheerfully. 

"Amen." Y/N stated smirking, looking at the Parisian landscape. She was beautiful. Her wavy hair were perfectly falling on her shoulders. The moonlight gave rise to a glimpse of light in her eyes just like it did the night before on the deck. The candles on the table lit up her face with a warm light that only made her inner warmth more tangible.

 

"I'll try to remember that." I answered, smiling widely. I missed that, simple conversations about work, colleagues, life over a glass of champagne. My jaw hurt from smiling. For the first time in three years, maybe even more I was happy, genuinely happy.

"Now, if you'll excuse me my friends, this long travel exhausted me and it's high time for me to go back home." Gaspard declared, stretching out before standing up. "Y/N, I let on your desk a few documents I'd like you to check, if you don't mind." He added, as we walked with him toward the door.

"I will." She replied softly, as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Knowing that he wasn't in the race for her heart made him more sympathetic. He loved her, I was sure of that but not the way I did. And even if Gaspard and I were totally different, we had at least one thing in common : Her. We both wanted to protect her, to see her safe and sound. And that was all I needed not to consider Gaspard as a colleague anymore but as a friend.

"Give my regards to John when you'll see him." She added smirking. And by the look on Gaspard's face I knew she had a point.

 

"For the fifteenth time we're not a thing." He asserted, lying obviously.

"Your mouth says no but your cologne says yes." Gaspard looked down when she said that. He was holding back a smile but not hard enough for me not to notice it. She was right.

"Louis, welcome back. I'll see you at the office, tomorrow." He said shaking my hand before leaving. Y/N closed the door behind him.

As soon as I heard the sound of the door shutting, my heart rate went crazy. That simple noise echoed in my mind like a shrill cry in an empty house, a gunshot in a crowded plaza or the thunder in the silent night. How could a simple external sound stimulus, an everyday life sound, put on alert every single one of my body cells.

 

I was alone with her in that big Parisian apartment. I had been waiting for that moment since we had danced together, since I had felt her body so close to mine. I had had no other thought in mind but to be alone with her ever since, besides hiding the erection in my pants arising from the sudden contact of our bodies. My member twitched at the memory of my hand on her bare thigh, of her womanhood so close to my groin. I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind.  
I had been waiting for that moment, I had spent the last hour keeping an eye on Gaspard's glass, praying for him to drink it quickly to let us alone; cursing him every time he got a refill, and yet, I was nervous at the idea of being alone with her.  
****

**...**

"And here's your room..." Y/N stated opening the guestroom door. "I hope you like it otherwise... I can still find you a hotel room for the night or anything where you'll feel home." She said, leaning against the door frame.

 

I subconsciously walked around the room while she talked, brushing the bed cover soft fabric, letting my eyes wander all around the room, even if they always ended up lingering on her.

The room was like a perfect magazine cover. I was afraid to sit in case I wrinkled the fabric or stained it with something I didn't even know was on my pants. The couch was red but inlaid with a fine golden silk; leaves embroidered so delicately that they might have landed there in spring and just sunk in, but I knew they had taken hundreds of hours to sew. The bed cover was white, the kind of white that is untouched by hands and devoid of dust. The soft light added warmth to the room but only one detail made me feel like home in that room. I closed my eyes and inhaled the perfume that floated in the air. Her perfume was intoxicating. She consisted of a scent that represented freshly cut timber, like the damp forest after a rainy day; she smelt heavenly, like iris and orchids. Her aroma was like a drug to me, I couldn't get enough of it.

 

"Y/N, it's perfect. Thank you."

After three years in a cell, I got goosebumps at that thought, that was more than enough. She could have had me sleeping on her couch and I would have been the happiest man on earth.

"I let you move in then, my room is at the end of the hallway if you need anything." She answered with a warm smile before heading out of the room.

"Y/N wait!" She stopped at the sound of my voice and turned back. "Will I ever be able to pay you back, for everything you've done for me?"

"You already did. Goodnight Louis." She answered smiling before leaving the room. The way her lips lifted upward. Her smile shined like the stars in the sky, with no bright city lights to dim them. It was like the sun opened its eager light to shine about her. Her smile was a ray of sunshine, and I was a sunburn.

 

"Goodnight, Mademoiselle."

**...**

I put my trunk on the bed and started unpacking it. I took my clothes out of it and was going to place them in the large wooden dresser when I noticed 'someone' had already filled them with clothes. I smiled at that sight. I placed the clothes I had in hands in one of the empty drawer and felt a satisfying sensation at the sight of those well-folded clothes. Simple everyday life things. Get back to normal life would start with that.

There was one thing left in my trunk. Her gift, the sketchbook. I smiled at the memory of her offering it to me. My fingers brushed the hard cover of it before I placed it on my bedside table.

I took a warm shower, and god it was hard for my hand not to linger where I wanted Y/N's hand to be, especially after dancing so close to her.

If there was one thing I appreciated more than her company since I had left my earthly hell, it was the feeling of being clean, the smell of soap on my skin before slipping under the covers. I fell back onto the bed, the mattress sunk under my weight and I snuggled deeper into the silken duvet. I reverently rubbed my fingers along the silken mattress.

I stared at the ceiling, after that long day I could finally think. Think about all of that, about everything that had happened. Nostalgia was almost gone, the feeling of loosing her once in Paris was vanished, life allowing me a few more days in her company. I was exhausted and for the first time in ages I would sleep for that reason only, not to escape reality or the winding paths of my mind inescapably leading me to tortuous thoughts.

I pressed my cheek to the cool, velvet pillows. The comforter was thick and irresistibly soft, like a billowing cloud. I toppled into it, relieved to rest my weary feet. Warmth and darkness enveloped me and I soon succumbed to the call of sleep. 

 

**...**

**_Your Point of View_ **

I woke up to the sound of a scream. Louis' scream. I felt my eyes widen and pulse quicken. The scream came again, desperate, terrified... human. It was the kind of scream that made your blood run cold. It pierced the brain and ignited some primeval pathway. We can never truly feel another's pain, but that scream of Louis' came close.

The moon was still high in the sky. I put on my robe, knotted it and ran toward his bedroom. I had no clue as to what I'd do when I got there, just that I had to get there, fast.

Some people say that you only realize how much you love someone once they're in danger. That had so much more sense then.

I opened the door and felt like I was crossing an implicit border without his consent. My breathing started to calm down when I saw him. He was safe but my heart sank at the sight of him sweating fighting old demons. Nightmares. That was to be expected.

He was there, shirtless, the fists clenched with blanched knuckles and the nails digging deeply into the palms of his hands. Demons were trying to bring him with them in the depths of darkness but my whole being knew he belonged among angels.

"Louis, hey, wake up! You're having a nightmare, you're gonna be just fine but I need you to wake up now." I whispered trying to get him out of his nocturne cell.  
I was kneeling beside the bed pleading the man I loved to wake up from his nightmare, a nightmare I had dived him into.

I always believed in facts, results, figures but when it came to him I became Utopian, stupid. What I was thinking? That taking him out of that hell would be enough? That he would live "happily ever after" after that? I had dived him into that nightmare myself. I had to stir him out of it.

"Y/N..." I took his hand in mine as if to keep demons from taking him away from me.

"I'm here, Louis. You're with me, in Paris. You're safe, you're not there anymore. Whatever you're seeing is not real. Please, Louis wake up." I whispered softly, gently caressing his cheek. He immediately woke up as I did so.

 

He didn't notice me kneeling next to his bed. I looked down in silence hearing nothing but him panting. Until he spoke.

 

"I'm fucked up..." My heart bled at his words.

 

"Alone and fucked up." By the sound of his voice, I knew he fought back tears.

"You're not, you'll never be." I reassured him placing my hand on his. He turned to me when he heard my voice, finally noticing me in the dark.

 

"Y/N?"

I lifted my head as soon as my name escaped from his mouth. That night wasn't the night demons would take him away from me.

"Hey." I was going to take my hand off his when he placed his on top of mine.

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard you scream, Louis. You had a nightmare" I saw his face darken when I pronounced the word "nightmare". He looked away. He remembered.  
He sat still panting, but he winced as he did so. I took my eye off his bare chest.

"Louis, you okay?" I asked sitting on the edge of the bed. He gave me no other response but staring at the wall with dead eyes.

"Yes. Sorry." He apologized laying his eyes on me. He gently caressed my cheek and I leant into his touch. He smiled softly but I saw him retain a wince when I did so. I turned the bedside lamp on and took his hand off my cheek...

"Louis... you skinned yourself." I whispered looking at the marks his nails had let in his palms.

"It's... nothing. You should go back to sleep." He eluded, trying to hide his hands from me.

"Louis, please let me take care of that." I begged him. He nodded before following me to the kitchen.

**_Louis' Point of View_ **

"Louis, please let me take care of that." I nodded before standing up to follow her to the kitchen.  
She was going to pass the bedroom door, when she stopped and turned back to me. She was gathering the courage to ask me something.

"Hum... Louis... Would you... mind putting a shirt on?" She asked me avoiding my gaze. "I'll wait for you in the kitchen." She added before leaving the room.

I stayed there chuckling alone in that room. Was there a single chance for me to ignite an ounce of lust in her? I put a pajama top on and joined her.

**...**

**_Your Point of View_ **

"Thank y-." Louis interrupted himself wincing in pain at the contact of his palm with the alcohol soaked cotton wool ball. "-you, for being here for me." He finished still grimacing from the alcohol.

"You would have done the same for me." I simply answered focusing on his palms and dabbing away at the cuts. I felt his eyes on me. Shit.

 

"Can I ask you something?" He asked out of the blue.

I nodded, finishing cleaning the scratches.

"All right I... think you're good."

"Thank you." He stood up and followed me around the kitchen as to be sure I wouldn't get away with his question.

I poured myself a glass of water and he watched me drink it up leant against the wall. 

 

He waited for me to finish it, that was when he finally spoke.

"Why did you ask me to put something on?"  _Fuck._

I took a deep breath and leant against the countertop.

"You really don't have a single idea of the effect you can have, Mr. Dega. Come on, you should go back to sleep." I eluded before walking him back to his room.

**...**

"If you need anything don't hesitate, I'll let my door opened." I noted from the door frame once he was back in bed. I won't dwell on the fact that he took his shirt off the minute we entered back in his room for the only pleasure of torturing me. I turned off the light and relucantly headed back to my room.

"Y/N wait!" I froze at the sound of his voice and turned around. "Would you mind staying with me for the night, I really don't want to be alone. If you don't mind of course." It was too late for me to overthink the situation. I decided for once not to listen to what the voice of reason and pragmatism dictated me.

"I'd love to." The smile he gave me in response warmed me as much as a fireside during the cold winter.

 

I closed the door behind me and snuggled against him as he put a protective arm around me. The two of us laid in that large bed, my head on his bare chest, his heartbeat pounding in my ears. I had found where I belonged. As Louis let out a soft sigh and repositioned himself against me... I knew somewhere in my heart... that it was one of the significant moments.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked, lifting my head to see him.

"Hum?"

"What was your nightmare about?" He looked away. He then placed a hand on my head and started to play with my hair.

"Prison. Papi... You."

"Me?" The word left my mouth before I could retain it.

"Nightmares are about losing things that count to you. You count to me."

I didn't know what to answer or even if it meant what I wanted. I got even closer to him, and something in his eyes told me that he had understood that it was my way of thanking him.

"What's going to happen now?" He asked, breaking the silence between us. I smiled when he did I didn't want that moment to end, like every other moment by his side.

"You're going back to a normal life, an honest job, a shitty boss, shitty colleagues, Paris' effervescence, winter, spring, summer, fall and you start it all over again. Nothing but a well-rooted routine."

"A routine, a normal life... That sounds perfect to me." He was thinking out loud, he did that often.

He often smiled with his lips, but it was his eyes that shined mostly, and it was that radiance that made every man and woman who saw it feel the irresistible impulse to smile, too, for that smiling of the eyes was the most sincere and pure emotion that Louis would show, even if he didn't want to show it. The eyes never lie – if I had been asked to choose nothing but four words to advise one on how to understand Louis' thoughts, those would have been the four I would have chosen.

I was subconsciously tracing patterns on his chest with the tip of my finger, his name, random shapes when I felt him flinch.

"Sorry." I apologized, not really knowing why.

"Don't be. Just a chill." He replied softly, looking me deeply in the eye, his finger tip tracing the curves of my lips. That was when I felt him twitch again, I then felt a cold wind in my back and decided to broke the contact of our bodies to get up and close the window. He winced at the loss of contact.

I closed the window taking a deep breath of cold air before doing so, just to clear my mind. I was going to join him in bed when I fell over the bedside table in the dark. Something hit the ground when I did so.

I switched the bedside lamp on to pick it up. I smiled at that sight, I hadn't noticed it until then. The sketchbook I had offered him.

I picked it up and started to flip through it.

 

"You coming to bed?" Louis asked, turning around to see what I was up to. Suddenly his expression changed. "Y/N don't!" He stated trying to take the sketchbook from my hands.

"Those drawings are beautiful, Louis. You're really talented." I marveled putting the sketchbook out of his reach before sitting down on the edge of the bed to look at it more attentively. In front of my eyes, portraits, landscapes, still-life. Each one was more beautiful than the other.  
The portraits of Papillon and Gaspard were the easiest to recognize, I couldn't believe how well he had caught Gaspard's expression. I turned the pages, our boat, some familiar faces, other prisoners probably, even Bertrand was there.

 

"Y/N please, give it back to me."

I turned a few more pages and suddenly understood why he wanted it back. It hadn't anything to do with any kind of artistic humility or shyness. It was shame that I could read in his eyes.  
Naked women... no... a naked woman drawn multiple times, her features were too similar from one drawing to the other to belong to different women. And by features, I mean her breasts, her hips perfectly reflecting the light, her full lips, her wavy hair falling on her bare shoulders, her gaze full of lust...

_My features..._

I brushed the soft paper as if to feel the movements of the pencil that had drawn it. Those were even more beautiful.

 

"This isn't what you think. I didn't want to... I mean... You weren't supposed to see those."

I remained silent.

"Please Y/N say something, anything. I'm sorry, I really am." He got closer to me. Louis took the sketchbook away from my hands and placed it on the bedside table drawer.  
"Speak to me, please." Words couldn't emanate from my mouth. My mind went mute. We stared at each other in an odd way, as if it were a silent argument.

His eyes darted to my lips and slowly my eyes did come to focus with his. Unexpectedly, his hand drifted to my hips. It settled there and pulled me closer. I inhaled sharply.

 

"Fuck it."

And within the second his lips were on mine.

Unable to contain ourselves anymore, Louis held my head in his hands and pulled me into a fiery and passionate kiss, and I let him. Our lips finally united together, my plump, velvety lips compelling against his warm ones, dancing around and soon bonding together. Epiphany and elation percolated into our veins and soon the entire system as he continued to press his lips more impenetrably and rougher onto mine. He silently begged me for permission and I parted my trembling lips as a biological response to the taste of his soft and pouty lips and to the heady perfume of his expensive cologne. He was sending wild tremors along my nerves, inflicting me sensations I had never known I was capable of feeling.

All I could feel was him. His warmth, his touch, his being. My heart ached when his hands pulled me even closer to him, taking in that final embrace, that kiss of death. My whole body craved more, craved him. I was intoxicated—I was intoxicating him, but it didn't matter. Nothing would matter after that. And when he pulled away for air, I pulled him back in.

I kissed him back, the kiss getting deeper, deeper than all the galaxies in the universe. His champagne lips imprinting themselves on mine like a footprint in the snow, forging a sense of exoticism and roguery.

All I could focus on was Louis. On the soft moan he had just made when I made us even, on the intoxicating feeling he was providing me.

My hands worked their way on his bare chest, feeling each crevasse, each line along his perfect physique.

I lied on my back as he matched my body's form. Louis' hands ventured over my curved body, exploring. The only touch of his hands on my hips burnt me to the core. We pulled apart and opened our eyes. We stared at each other, deep into each other's eyes. Mine full of wonder and love, Louis' full of curiosity and passion. No words were spoken but a story worthy of us was communicated.

His lips brushed mine. Not innocently, like a tease but hot, fiery, passionate and demanding. I wanted to pull away before I lost myself but I couldn't seem to... In that minty moment, my senses had been seduced and I couldn't longer think straight. "Y/N" he whispered slowly, prolonging each letter as if to savor them.

Never before had my name ever felt so wonderful a one, I thought, as I leant in for another kiss...

_Thousands of others..._

 


	11. Nγx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very first Louis Dega x Reader fiction.  
> Inspired by Rami Malek in the movie Papillon (2018)
> 
> Nyx was told to be very beautiful. Her shadowy figure made of her the perfect personification of the night. She was a very unique goddess as she could impact mankind in a good or bad way. Zeus thus feared her because she was smarter and stronger than him. In fact, she was the only goddess he ever feared as she was the only one he never ceased to love…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE, thus please report in the comments any grammar, tense or vocabulary mistakes so that I can correct it asap.
> 
> MATURE RATED: This chapter contains a smut scene
> 
> s4msepiol.  
> no copyright infringement intended.

_**Warning:**  _ **** _This chapter contains a smut scene._    ** _  
_**

 

**_Louis' Point of View_ **

 

The sun streaming through the bedroom window woke me up. I hadn't slept that well in ages.  
The glowing and radiant sun peaked above the horizon out of the window and extended its vivid light across the clear blue sky. Its dazzling and inviting rays flowed through the window providing warmth to my body. Shedding myself of the remaining glimpses of a dream, my eyes were still shut as I soaked in the warmth of my covers before letting my green eyes see the sunrays. Then, only then, it hit me.

The brief instant between the moment I woke up and the moment I remembered the reason why I had fallen asleep either crying or smiling was over. And trust me, I had fallen asleep smiling like a fool.

I patted my hand across the bed, searching for her body, but only met an empty space. Where was she? Was the previous night nothing but a dream? I ran my thumb over my lips, they were chapped and dry.

It wasn't a dream.

We had spent the night kissing, cuddling, touching, brushing each other's body. My member twitched at the memory of being between her legs kissing her passionately. My hands had gripped her hips so hard that I was afraid I may had left bruises on her soft skin. Our moans had filled the room and I had never heard anything more mellifluous.

 

I closed my eyes to remember more accurately the sensation of my arms on each side of her head for support, the sensation of my erection pressed tight against her womanhood as another concerto of moans escaped our mouths. Fuck, I was hard.

When I kissed her my brain lit on fire and the warmth spread throughout my entire body. That was all it took for me to be addicted. Those kisses were my salvation and my torment. From then on, I would live for them and I would die with the memory of them on my lips. I would dedicate my life to being with her from the moment of that first kiss, for I knew that if I would lose her I would lose myself. She was the half that made me whole.

I noticed a slight taste of metal on my lips and chuckled when I remembered how many times she had bitten them.

The previous night, when Morpheus finally took me in his arms, I knew by heart every inch of her skin, of her mouth. I could have mapped her lips perfectly with my eyes closed. But then, I had forgotten how they tasted, how soft they were, the only thing I remembered being how bad I ached for them, for her.

If the eyes are the gateway to the soul, the lips are the same thing for the body. They are softness, lust, desire, passion and the promise of the pleasure to come. And I must admit that I was nervous at the idea of crossing those gates.

I decided not to think more about that and to get ready for my first day of work...

**...**

**_Your Point of View_ **

I entered the living room reading documents Gaspard had let me. To be honest 'reading' wasn't the exact word, I was more looking at them than actually reading them, my eyes wandering on the contrast created by the black and bold letters on the white thin paper. I was lost in my thoughts, remembering the previous night and the crashing wave of sensations that had overwhelmed me when an exquisite perfume caught my attention.

Louis' was looking at the street through the window, one of his hand in his pocket, the other one holding the linen curtain. The sun bathed his face so beautifully I froze to enjoy the sight.

"Did you sleep well?" He smiled at the sound of my voice.

He turned around and stayed still looking at me from head to toes with a slight smirk. He then slowly walked toward me, silently. He stopped once he was only a few inches from my face. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before softly caressing my cheek. I leant into his touch.  
His eyes darted to my lips, his hand drifted to my hips and unexpectedly he pulled me closer. I inhaled sharply.  
His lips brushed mine and it was the most excruciating sensation ever.

"Do we have enough time for... that?" I whispered teasingly.

"I'm sure my boss won't mind if I'm a bit late on my first day." He whispered in my ear before replacing his lips millimeters from mine, his eyes darting teasingly from my eyes to my lips, from my lips to my eyes. He could get me wet by the only sound of his voice.

"Forget what I just said, on second thought... I won't be a _'bit'_  late." He added still whispering before finally deciding to crash his lips onto mine.

_Which would have happened if someone hadn't knocked on the door at that moment._

"Argh..." I scolded frustrated. Louis, him, couldn't help but smile as he was holding back a laugh. He went to the door, probably afraid of what I would do to the person standing behind it.

"Ready for your first day?" I heard Gaspard say cheerfully from the living room. By the enthusiasm in his voice I could tell that he had spent a night with John as good as the one I had spent with Louis.

"I think I am, yes." Louis answered so calmly and naturally that Gaspard could have thought we were drinking tea before he knocked on the door.

"Enough small talk my friends, Bertrand is waiting for us downstairs." Gaspard declared showing the door.

**...**

**_Louis' Point of View_ **

"Here is Gaspard's office, if you need anything don't hesitate. He won't mind , he likes to show that he has some seniority." Y/N explained me as she was giving me a tour of the office.  
And even with the best will in the world, I wasn't able to focus on anything but her lips as she talked. How could someone looked so good that early in the morning, especially after sleeping so little.

I liked the way everyone acted around her, still she stayed humble, asking that old woman news about her grandchildren or asking that lawyer how his vacation in the south of France had gone. It was hard to hide my furious need to kiss her in the middle of the office. Even more after the previous night... and that morning... An unfamiliar voice stirred me out of my thoughts, before they got too tendentious...

"Mademoiselle, your 9:00 is waiting in your office." A secretary said.  
I saw Y/N hold back a sigh.

"Would you mind showing Mr. Dega his office?" She asked her employee.

The woman nodded and within a second Y/N was walking away, and I hadn't any idea when would I see her again.  
From that moment the day went slowly as if Y/N were the sun making my world turn round.

The young woman whose name I had already forgotten, led me to my office. A pile of documents was already waiting for me on the desk. I smiled at that sight. Most people would probably had been annoyed, but I was glad to see that my new life was beyond normal. I sat at my desk and was about to get to work when I noticed that the woman was still there waiting for god knows what.

"So... You're the new accountant?"

"Yes... at least that's what the plate on the door says." I answered not understanding her point. She burst into laughter for no apparent reason. I wasn't even trying to be funny, just pointing out the obvious.

"My office is at the end of the hallway." She started, getting closer. "If you need anything, don't hesitate." She said placing her hand near mine on the desk. "Anything." She was making me feel uncomfortable.

"Thank you... Hum, I'll better get to work now so if you don't mind..." I said politely inviting her to leave.

"I'll see you at the 11am meeting then." She declared before heading to her desk.

I decided not to care more about her and got to work. I was glad to discover that I hadn't lost the touch for accounting. Being Mr. Barot's bookkeeper, probably helped at that.

 

I was pretty efficient until I noticed something.

 

 From my desk, I could see Y/N in her office. I couldn't help but smile at the sight of her working, talking on the phone, sitting on her desk. The latter sight allowing me to have a glance of her soft legs. From then on, I was unable to focus on anything else, suddenly the figures in front of me seemed like a foreign language.

 

My thoughts kept coming back to the previous night and it was even harder to fight them back when she left her office to speak with an employee working only a few desks away from mine. I had eyes only for her, whether in a cabaret or in an office full of young women. I hated myself for letting my eyes linger on her ass as she walked back to her office, her skirt perfectly enhancing her curves.

"Hey, Earth to Louis! Did you hear anything I just said?"  
Gaspard's voice snapped me out of my reverie.

"Hum... What? Sorry, I was focused on... something else." I stuttered nervously.

"I was asking you if you'd like to lunch with Y/N and me." He repeated.

"Yes, of course, with who else would you like me to lunch with. I know no one beside the two of you."

"I don't know, the redhead over there has been staring at you all morning." He pointed out.

"Gaspard, I assume that we both know that you know which woman occupies my thoughts." I admitted tired of innuendos between us.

"Mr. Dega, we're going to be great friends." He stated before heading to his office.

**...**

 

At 11am, I headed to the meeting, I couldn't tell if it was to make a good impression on my first day or because I knew Y/N would be there.

 

I took the elevator and felt all the eyes on me, the lot of newbies I guess. I followed my colleagues to a large room and took a seat.

As soon as I did Y/N entered the room with Gaspard. She was laughing and that sight filled my heart with joy. She stopped when she saw me and suddenly she wasn't paying attention to what Gaspard was saying anymore. Y/N smiled at me from the other side of the room and I couldn't help but smile back. God, I was crazy about her. I looked at the vacant seats next to me hoping that she would understand what I meant. Thank god, she did.  
She nodded at Gaspard to follow her, for them to sit next to me.

All of a sudden, her smile faded. I didn't immediately understand why, until I saw the woman of earlier sit next to me.

She started to talk about the coffee machine but all I was paying attention to was Y/N's eyes. She never showed how she felt, but her eyes... her eyes always betrayed her. My heart tugged when I saw her face darken before Gaspard and she walked toward a man waving for them to join him a few rows in front of me. They sat next to him, Gaspard smiled at me when he saw me, she didn't.

 

The meeting lasted about an hour, a few employees spoke, mostly about results of their department or the projects to come. I was then asked to introduce myself. I stuttered a small presentation of myself, eluding of course the last three years of my life.    

At the end of my "speech" the young woman, the 'redhead' as Gaspard had called her, applauded, all alone. Everybody turned toward her, everybody except Y/N. I could have sworn I saw her roll her eyes. I went back to my seat before embarrassing my self even more.

I tried to join Y/N at the end of the meeting but she left the room too fast for me to. Instead, I was stucked with the woman that had kept me from spending an entire hour with the only woman I wanted to be with, because of who I had spent an entire hour watching her from away laughing and talked with other men. And I guess my irritation wasn't that obvious as 'redhead' decided to escort me to my office.

**...**

"So, I didn't fully understand where you were for the last three years." She asked me as I entered my office.

"Business in South America." I dryly retorted, sitting back at my desk. That was my first day I couldn't afford to make an enemy of her, she had been there for longer than I did, she was probably friend with all the employees. That was the only thing that kept me from shutting the door in her face when I entered my office. I didn't know what she wanted from me, she was an ordinary woman but lately she had succeeded really well at keeping me away from the only woman I cared about.

"Oh, you must be a very important man then, a friend once told me that people working in South America are paid so well there, that they usually never come back to France." I held back a laugh. I was wrong. I knew what she wanted, and she was far from being an ordinary woman. She was the kind of woman I had been married to once. Venal, greedy and ready to sell herself, the kind that made me sick.

"I came for the woman I love." I admitted honestly, hoping that it would discourage her. But I could see in her eyes, that it had had the exact opposite effect.

She closed the door behind her and walked toward me swinging her hips so vigorously that it was ridiculous.

"Remember what I said earlier..." She was inches away from me then. "Anything." She whispered before reaching out to touch my crotch.

I grabbed her arm before she could do so.  
I got up and hoped for her to see in my eyes the rage boiling in my veins.

 

"You better listen carefully now." I started, letting go off her arm. "I'm not interested in you, I'll never be. You could walk in this room fully naked, and yet I wouldn't even grant you with a glance. My heart is taken, for good. So I advise you to stop entering this office without knocking, as it would be unfortunate for you to walk in while I'm bringing her to orgasm on that desk, don't you think?" I emphasized every word of my last sentence for her to understand how serious I was.

She stayed still and silent. After a few seconds, she placed her hand on mine.  
"You'll come to it, they always do. The flesh is weak..." She answered bitterly. I had bruised her ego, still it wasn't enough for her to understand.

"You're right." I started. She smirked when I said that and tried to caress my cheek. I grabbed her arm before she could do so once again. Her face crumbled as the following words made their way outside my mouth.

"The flesh is weak. I'm not."

All of a sudden, she started smirking, which made me doubt her mental health for a second. That was when it hit me. We weren't alone anymore. I turned around and my heart broke in a thousand pieces at the sight in front of me.

Y/N stood in the door frame, a file in hand that she gripped so hard that it showed how hurt she was, even if once again her eyes alone said it all. At that moment, I would have rather been in my old cell than to stay there in front her, witnessing the pain I had caused her, unable to do anything against it.

I had no excuses, I don't even want to imagine how broken I would have been if I had caught her with another man, only inches from each other, his hand on her arm. Because that was exactly what she was witnessing, me alone with another woman behind a closed door.

"I'm- I'm sorry... I didn't mean to interrupt anyt- Sorry. I'll come back later." Y/N stuttered emotionless, it was the first time I got to see her hurt, utterly broken. She was gripping the file so hard that I knew it was to hold back tears. And before I could say anything, I heard :

"Oh Mademoiselle! Hum... sorry... Yes, it would be better, to be honest... Louis doesn't seem to be a five-minute man."

A few words... that was all it took for a small teardrop to roll down Y/N's cheek and without a word said she left the room.

 

"Y/N! Wait, please! This isn't what you think." I shouted storming out of the room and running after her. Thank god it was noon so everybody was out for lunch. I caught her up and touch her shoulder for her to turn toward me.

"Y/N please, let me explain myself." I pleaded her. I wanted her to know that I had fallen in love with her the minute I laid eyes on her, that I wanted her and no other.

"Don't." She answered dryly before walking away. At that moment I understood one thing. She had freed me from my chains, but she was still the one in possession of the key, she could throw me back in my cell with a single glance.  
I stayed there unable to move or to speak and watched her walk away from me, desperately hoping for her to look at me one last time before leaving. She didn't.

I walked back to my office. The redhead was still there. I was too broken to feel anything beside pain, hatred would have to wait. I didn't even look at her and walked back to my desk. My thoughts fought in my head like if my mind were a battlefield, and I was there in the middle of the field fighting with bare hands.

"Think about my... proposition... A cute little boy like you. The pleasure I could give you." She said with a suave voice while opening the first two buttons of her blouse.

 

"Leave. Now." I retorted, exhausted of her little games. Miraculously she complied and finally left the room, all satisfied with her little show.

I could barely breath. I had lost her, for good.

I went to the bathroom of my office, closed the door and sat on the floor. The coldness of the bathroom tiles gave me goosebumps. I spent the rest of the afternoon, there, scolding myself for not having been smart enough, caring enough. 

I needed her, I loved her, and I didn't want to be alone anymore. The nightmares were going to get worse. I needed the one I loved to be there beside me. I knew it was selfish thinking and it made me feel bad, but I couldn't stop thinking about her.

**...**

At 8pm, I left the office hoping that nobody would notice my red and swollen eyes from crying. I headed back to what I considered like 'home', even if it would not be for long.

I decided to walk my way home, probably to punish me but also hoping that the city sight would cheer me up. But neither the smell of fresh bread nor the painters on Montmartre succeeded at stirring me out from my dark thoughts.

I arrived in front of her building, I walked up the stairs and stayed still in front of her apartment door for a few minutes. I took a deep breath, put the key in the lock and turned it very slowly.  
I entered and closed my eyes at the scent of her perfume. I sighed when I understood that she wasn't there and that I would probably spend the night on my own.

**...**

I spent the rest of the evening in my bedroom, drawing a little and thinking a lot. I couldn't help myself from rehashing that day's events. I tortured myself to know at what exact moment that first day went from the promise of a new life to the taste of ashes I had in mouth.  
A part of me knew that I wasn't responsible, not fully at least, and yet I couldn't stop blaming myself. I couldn't blame her, not after what she had seen. I had hated Gaspard for less.

If only Y/N had walked into that office a few seconds before, if only she had heard all the things I had said about her, how much I loved her, how bad I wanted her, her only. If only I wasn't such a coward, I would have told her all those things, I wouldn't have stayed there rehashing the day again and again. Poor me. What's that French proverb again?  
'With enough 'ifs' we could put Paris in a bottle'.

It was almost midnight when I decided to go to bed, knowing that waiting for her would be useless as she wouldn't say a word to me. My heart tugged at the scent of her perfume in the sheets, an implicit recall of the previous night. All I wanted was to wake up, to realize that that day was nothing but a nightmare. But it wasn't, I knew it. All I could hope for was for the next day to go better than that day. I felt that blackness come over me. Like a blanket, not a blanket of warmth but a blanket of coldness making me shiver. But somehow it made my eyes felt heavier and heavier. I closed my eyes finally sending me into a dreamless sleep.

**...**

**_Your Point of View_ **

The fireplace mimicked the warmth of the day. I was sat cozy by the flame, my features illuminated by the flickering light, the only one in the room. Though the air wasn't smokey I could smell the pine as it burnt, just a faint fragrance to reassure my senses that there would be comfort in the long bitter winter to come.

Comfort, that was all I needed after that awful day. Still, I was alone in the living room with a book of which I was unable to read three sentences in a row, my mind always finding a way to lead my thoughts back to the memory of that day. That woman so close to him, that sight was enough to give me nausea. Who was to blame? She? Obviously. Him? A bit, for putting himself in such a situation. Myself? More than it is humanly possible.

You know what's worse than being hit by a hurricane? Seeing it coming and yet do nothing against it. I knew that could happen, I had thought of that scenario long before our boat had even sailed in French waters. As usual I had been too afraid to show what I felt, to show everyone in that office that he was mine and that I was his.  
Regrets washed over me like the long slow waves on a shallow beach. Each wave was icy cold and sent shivers down my spine. How I longed to go back and take a different path, but that was impossible.

Louis was already asleep when I came home. I smiled at that thought. Seeing him sleeping peacefully was sufficient to my happiness.

**...**

I had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the crack fire without even noticing, only to be awakened by a bloodcurdling scream. Had I been dreaming? Maybe I'd imagined it. I waited breathlessly and heard the scream again. Louder.

The scream tore through me like a great shard of glass. It sounded like a scream of wild panic. A scream of hysteria and disbelief, bordering on terror. My heart raced. I stood up and ran to Louis bedroom.  
The blood drained from my face, and before I was even aware of making a conscious decision my legs were pounding furiously on the wooden floors, my ears straining for more sounds.

**...**

Louis woke up when I opened the door and my heart rate slowed down as soon as I saw him, safe and sound.

 

"Y/N?" His quivering voice added to the sight of him bare chest panting and sweating from his nightmare made him look so vulnerable that I would have given everything I had for him to feel safe.

"Hey." I whispered with a soft smile as I stood in the door frame. My hair fell in loose curls on my shoulders, I only wore a silk robe on top of my short nightgown, and yet I felt more uncomfortable with seeing him such vulnerably without his consent than with the way I looked. "Nightmare?"

"Yes... The same one, over and over again." He said staring at the wall with dead eyes. There was an hint of shame in his voice.

I was having a hard time at not staring at his bare toned chest. I slowly got closer, slowly enough to allow him to stop me if he wanted to.

"Come on, just try to relax and go back to sleep. I'll be in the living room if you need anything." I reassured him while gently tucking the covers over him.  
I was going to leave when he pushed himself up onto his elbow; grabbing my wrist with his free hand and pulling my arm closer to him. I locked my eyes with his, in a desperate attempt to see in his eyes what he was thinking.

"Why do you even care? Why... Why didn't you let me alone?" He asked me frantically. His voice was quivering, desperate for an answer.

"I told you, I'll do whatever it takes for you not to feel alone. Never again." He loosened the grip he had on my arm, losing the warmth of his touch sent shivers down my spine.  
He looked astonished at my answer and stared at me, saying nothing. His eyes darted to the side as to gather the courage to speak.

"I'm sorry... For this morning. But I need you to trust me, I couldn't care less about her, we didn't... . She's noth-" He started stuttering apologies. Once again.

"Don't." I started. His jaw clenched when I interrupted him, he closed his eyes and I could see his lips trembling.

**_Louis' Point of View_ **

_Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate to say that for destruction, ice is also great. And would suffice. - Robert Frost_

"Don't."

Desire having ignited my soul, I would die convinced that apocalypse would be fire's hold. Still, the coldness in her voice, proved me that in that domain, ice could be as sovereign and callous.

Did I lose her for good? Was I of those who were cursed to perish in the ice, away from her warmth, her light. All of a sudden, the coldness of my cell seemed like an exquisite relief in comparison with loosing her.

Hell was a place. I had been through hell, I knew exactly how to descent there, I could have pinned it on a map better than any cartographer.  
But heaven... Heaven was a person, Y/N in my case. And hell, was slowly extending its borders, not satiated by the peninsula of French Guiana, to every place where she wasn't. 

**_Your Point of View_ **

"Don't." I started. His jaw clenched when I interrupted him, he closed his eyes and I could see his lips trembling. "She does her little show every time a new young man crosses the front doors. I should have fired her long ago but her father being an important investor, I'm hands tied." I explained.

Suddenly, his face regained colors as I spoke, going from that chalk tone he had the day we had met to his olive and tan tone bathing in the soft light.

"You don't have to apologize. I do." I went on. "I shouldn't have pushed you away like that... I just... hate the way she looks at you and... that doesn't even make sense." I sputtered, my heart speaking against my will.

"Y/N, why?" His voice was calm almost quiet, contrasting almost artistically with the battlefield in my mind.

"Because you're not even mine!" 

And before the sound of my shout stopped echoing in my ears, he crashed his lips onto mine.

Louis nearly knocked all wind from my lungs, still all my body relaxed at the contact of our lips as if I had been waiting for that my entire life. One of his hand was on my waist, the other one clasped gently into the back of my hair, pressing in softly, as if he feared I would want to slip out of his embrace. He didn't need to. I wanted that as badly as he did.

I hardly had a moment to react before he pressed his tongue to the seam of my lips and, at my grant of access, delved inside my mouth. That kiss was different from the ones he had granted me of until then, it was full of a burning desire he was, as I could hear it by the moans he was desperately trying to hold back, unable to control. That kiss was eager, craving for something more, something hotter. That kiss was only the premises of much more to come. Something we both had been waiting, wanting for too long. After that kiss I knew there was still a part of him I hadn't met yet.  
When we reluctantly broke the kiss for some much-needed air, he groaned against my mouth, my forehead resting against his. 

I opened my eyes only to notice that Louis was already staring at me for a few seconds, his eyes darkened by lust and desire. I took off my robe and let it fall to the ground and before I could ponder about it further, he smirked, yanked me to him and within a second covered my mouth with his, in a hungry kiss. Unable to resist any longer, our mouths pressed together in a long, passionate kiss. I softly bit his lower lip and swallowed his groan of pleasure as he ran his fingers down my spine, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us, until I could feel the beating of his heart against my chest.

My usual mode of hurrying from one thing to the next was suspended, I had no wish for the kiss to end. Drunk on endorphins my only desire was to touch him, to move my hands on his smooth and bare chest. In moments the burning and hungry kiss became firmer, I savored his lips and the quickening of his breath that matched my own. His lips felt so gentle, so warm.

My hands began to slide up his chest and encircled his neck as the kiss began to grow heavy. Louis' hand slid off my hair and tightened around my waist. I continued kissing him hungrily wanting more until I felt myself being pushed against the soft mattress. Louis' body pressed tight against mine made both of us moan and suddenly there was no going back.

All of a sudden, he pinned me down on the bed, his hand holding my wrists above my head leaving me unable to touch him. I thought he was going to resume the kiss but instead his head bent to my ear.

"I'm yours. I've been all yours since you walked into that prison yard." He whispered, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. That was Louis, my Louis. I was going to caress his cheek when he tightened his grip on my wrists to hold me in place. "But since spending last night kissing you doesn't seem enough, since drawing you naked until I had to touch myself to think properly doesn't seem enough, since saying to another woman how bad I want to take you on my desk until you reached orgasm twice doesn't seem enough neither, I'm going to show you how yours am I, and by the way, how bad I want you to be mine."

He went on, pressing his boner against my inner-thigh, still whispering, the volume of his voice teasingly contrasting with his words. That was Louis, the Louis I hadn't met yet, the one I couldn't wait to meet, to love... to pleasure...

He finally resumed the kiss still holding me firmly in place. I needed it, I needed him.  
I was already wet and by the way he was smirking against my lips I knew that was only the beginning. I was aching for his hands to roam all over my body. I liked the feel of his boner against my leg, letting me feel how aroused he was. I craved to open them and let it press against me a little, just to drown in the sensation. The pulsing in my lower area became unbearable then and I moved my legs apart without meaning to. He started grinding hard on me, never breaking the kiss, sending a jolt of electricity through my entire body every time he brushed my womanhood. 

"Louis..." I moaned. He broke the kiss only to torture me a bit more.

"Do you feel how hard I am for you, Y/N?" He whispered to my ear, the deep, level tones of his voice making something flutter, hot and urgent, deep in my belly. I nodded as I was unable to speak or think properly. I pressed my thigh against his erection and I could have died a happy woman after hearing him moan my name.

"Fuck, Y/N..." He swore under his breath against my collarbone.  
I took advantage of his distraction to flip him onto his back. He pushed himself up onto his elbows to sit against the bedhead, and I smirked at the sight of us, him half-naked, me on his lap.

I kissed him, roughly, for him to know how bad I wanted him, and passionately, for him to understand that what I felt for him wasn't just physical, in case crossing an ocean for him hadn't been clear enough. I couldn't help myself from grinding against his crotch, again and again, closing my eyes to enjoy better the pleasure and the sound of Louis moaning my name. The room was filled with our moans, and his grunts. It was high time for someone to make him feel good, and by someone I meant me and no one else. 

I reached down and grabbed the hem of my black nightgown and pulled it up over my head, letting the silk fabric fall to the floor, leaving me wearing nothing else but my lace panties. I didn't even feel ashamed, it felt true, it felt good, it felt right. As if every decision I had taken in my life led me there.  

 

"Y/N, you're... perfect" He said staring at nothing but my breasts, mesmerized by that part of my body he had just discovered but that he still had to conquer. His fists clenched as if he were holding himself from touching them.

How could the man who was so rough just a minute before, do all he could to remain a gentleman?

I loved that about him, among a lot of other things. I would never have to choose with him, between rough and passion, between equality and respect, he would always give me both without even noticing it. His breathing was getting more and more uneven and his urge to touch me more and more explicit. A few words, that was all he was waiting for.

"Louis... touch me. Please." I whispered in his ear.

And within a second, he lifted his hand, the other one still on my lower back, and cupped one of my breast. He pulled me into a passionate kiss as he did so and started to pleasure me, squeezing, massaging my breast. It felt like if my entire body had been shaped for him, from my hip where his hand rested perfectly to my breast that filled his hand to perfection.  

Suddenly, his thumb caressed my nipple, and he began rolling it in between his thumb and index finger, I arched my back unable to contain the wave of sensation he was putting me through. He pulled me back closer to him when I did, not wanting any space left between us. My breasts were pressed tight against his bare chest, his hand still in between us massaging my breasts, going from one to another, again and again. I was grinding so hard against him, as if I was taking revenge for all the pleasure his hand was giving me, he must have noticed it because he gave a slight squeeze at my breast making me break the kiss to moan against his lips.  

"Louis..." I moaned under his touch. I felt him smirk against my lips.

"That's right Y/N moan for me... Fuck... I love when you say my name." He teasingly whispered in my ear, in between winces of pleasure at the feeling of me grinding on his already so-tight pants. He needed more, we both did.

I let my hands roam up and down his chest, feeling every scar, every bruise. My hands couldn't touch enough of him. I kissed his neck an uncountable number of times, leaving red marks behind, in order to avoid any misunderstandings about who he belonged to, the next day at work.  
Encouraged by the sight of him eyes shut and moaning, this time I let my hands linger at the hem of his boxers, right under his pants. He froze and swallowed hard when I did. I could tell his eyes were open as I felt them on me. He was probably torturing himself trying to know if I was only teasing him or if I was opening the way for something more.

"Louis, I want you." I whispered in his ear, emphasizing every word.

"Me to..." And before he could answer, my hand slipped under the thin elastic of his boxer and reached for his member, leaving him wordless. He subconsciously spread his legs wider to grant me more space.  
I brushed teasingly his member at first on the whole length a few times before taking him in hand and beginning stroking him slowly. "Oh fuck Y/N...". I felt him getting even harder in my hand at every stroke, flinching at every movement of my hand that had set forth a slow but firm pace.

My hand wandered up and down his shaft, quickening the pace by speeding up every time he granted me of a moan, and thank god it happened a lot. The sight of him added to my name escaping his mouth in that lust tinted sound made me even wetter.

"Fuck Y/N... It feels so good..." He sputtered when I lingered my thumb tracing little circles on his tip. Louis let his head fall down on the bed head, his hands clenching the sheets hard as if to retain himself from succumbing to the temptation of relief. He stifled cursing and moans through clenched teeth as I went on, never breaking the pace. My wrist hurt from the long and thick member I had to please in such a small space but I couldn't stop. His pre-cum that was staining his pants eased the task making my hand glide from tip to base. 

I didn't want to stop and neither did he, at least that was what his reaction betrayed when I broke the contact of my hand with his sensitive muscle. His breath hitched in his throat at the loss of touch, his eyes shot open, and he stayed still staring at the wall, panting. His eyes darted slowly but surely down to me, as if he feared that I had vanished while his eyes were closed. Louis finally laid his eyes on me and breathed out when he realized that I was still there, on his lap, topless wearing nothing but black lace panties. His tongue darted out to dab at his bottom lip and I couldn't help myself from pulling him into another kiss at that sight. I moaned loudly and began to rock back and forth against him again. The friction between my legs was unbelievable. I broke the kiss to gather some air, our foreheads resting against each other.

"God, Y/N, I need you so badly..." He let out in almost tortured anguish panting. 

I nodded for him to lay, so I could maneuver him onto his back. I pushed his shoulders until he was comfortably sprawled on the soft mattress. He sounded so desperate for release that he could do nothing but comply.  
I laid next to him on my side, propping myself on my elbow. I placed my leg on his to never break the touch of our bodies and resumed to kissing his neck in that new, still so good position.

"Y/N... If you want to... stop here, I'll understand... I mean we don't have to... I want it of course but-" He stuttered while my attention was fully focused on his neck, kissing, licking, biting every inch of his soft skin.

Was he really thinking that I was doing all of that for him only, that I was only acting out of Christian charity there? If only he knew how damp he had gotten me by the only sound of his voice and the touch of his hands, he would understand that I was almost acting selfishly there. He would come to understand it, the second his hand would explore a way lower, hotter and warmer part of my being. I couldn't help but smirk against his neck at his words. 

"Why don't you take those off?" I whispered, softly biting his lobe, while looking at his pants and boxers still on. "You must feel incredibly tight in there..." I added, totally ignoring his previous intervention. He swallowed hard and nodded frantically.

With shaking fingers, he made quick work of his bottoms until he was finally completely naked beside me, and for the first time since the beginning of that heavenly moment my lips left his skin. I placed my head on his chest and looked down at his body, silently, remaining still, rocked by his chest moving up and down.

I wasn't looking at him, I was contemplating him as you do with a work of art or with the master piece of a long time lost collection, which price can't be valued by mortal standards, and trust me, the man laid beside me, belonged in a museum.  His features were divine, and for a second the idea that he could be of god descent occurred to me. His traits seemed like borrowed from a Greek statue, there was something with his body that brought me back to the Louvres hallways, and I couldn't tell if it was his marble muscles lightly drawn by three years of malnourishment or my urge to touch him without being allowed to.

"Y/N... please... touch me." His voice snapped me out of my trance. His voice was needy, irresistibly needy... So I complied.

"Fuck... Y/N please..." He repeated almost pleading. I did comply but just not where he wanted to. I walked my fingers across his chest, brushing each crevasse, each line, each bruise along his perfect physique. "Perfect" I never liked that word, and yet it was the only one that came to my mind when I looked at the naked man laid next to me. In fact, I hated that word. Perfection, the total lack of imperfection, is there anything more boring, more paradoxical than that, a concept which existence only relies on the absence. 

Imperfection makes perfection. I let my fingers conquered his body, and from times to times, on the miles and miles of skin I was making mine, my fingers encountered an obstacle, as a walking army would face the Berezina. The scars, the scratches, the scrapes dotting his smooth skin were like mounts, cordilleras that my fingers were unable to cross without flinching.

He was imperfect, he had flaws. In a way, that reassured me, he was as mortal as I was. Those scars were a written testimony of his past, of his three years as a convict. Those scars made him even more handsome, just as the missing arms of the Venus de Milo. I liked how the colors of his scars contrasted with his olive skin but my attention was particularly caught by one of them. A scar on his thigh seemed older, yet deeper than the others, he must have noticed my fixation because he took my chin in between his fingers for me to look at him.

"That's nothing. Let's just say that... my father had his very own... perception of education." He explained low, his face perfectly lit by the soft light of the bedroom.

I placed a soft kiss on that tale of the past. I understood that the last three years weren't the only hell he had been through. All I wanted was for him to feel the pleasure, the real pleasure, the one poets write odes about, the one men are ready to lose empire for.

So I let my hand wander lower and lower until I felt like Julius Cesar crossing the Rubicon with his army, openly declaring the war on Rome by doing so...

The closer I got to his member the quicker was his breathing, his eyes never leaving the slow but determinate path of my hand.  
I appreciated how "explicit" he was, leaving here and there hints of what made him feel good. He wasn't holding back grunts and moans in a stupid attempt to keep a masculinity facade. He had understood in a very short span of time that I liked hearing my name slip out of his mouth as much as he did. But none of those hints were as delightful as the one he granted me of when I took a firm hold of him and began stroking him leisurely. 

His lips were back on mine, in a kiss so roughly passionate that I sped up the pace, his lips froze within the kiss in an exquisite "o" shape, eyes squeezed shut. That only sight was enough to send me to hell for the millenniums to come.  

"That feels good?" I whispered stroking lightly, in order to be sure I wasn't misunderstanding his hints.  
He nodded frantically against my mouth, the words having deserted him. He propped himself up into his elbow, me still working him, and within a second his hand was back on my breast, rubbing and kneading until I felt myself start to build toward the  
inevitable explosion. At that moment, it took me all my will not to break the kiss or the contact of my hand with his lower muscle. Will, that went up in smoke when he broke the kiss, bent his head and took the tip of my breast in his hot mouth. A moan escaped me as sensations erupted along my nerve endings.

"God, I love the sounds you make... It makes me even harder" He whispered to my ear before resuming to his task. He switched to my other breast, sucking, licking, tugging, and I shifted restlessly, the pressure inside me mounting again. I couldn't recall the last time someone had kissed me and touched me like that. I couldn't recall that kind of pleasure, ever.

"Louis..."

"Y/N..." He rasped softly against my nipple as I stroked him harder and with more purpose. I pulled him into an umpteenth kiss, my lips already aching for his. Tongues slipped and slid over another, moans devoured by one another. As the kiss grew in intensity, he let out faint, pained groans every time I swirled my finger around the tip or squeezed him just the way he liked, in a way that got him writhing, legs trembling. He reluctantly broke the kiss as he let himself fall back onto the mattress and the back of his forearm flew over his mouth, a loud moan threatening release.

 

He was exposed to the open air, biting his lips to stifle himself, his member leaking precum down my fingers, half-lidded gaze and flushed cheeks. He was getting close, close to the edge where the need to come is near unbearable, bordering on pain.

"Shit... Y/N... I'm gonna... Please, s-stop..." came his strangled reply as I sped up once again twisting my wrist around the head on the upswing.  
I couldn't and didn't want to stop, not when he looked and sounded the way he did, under my touch. I gradually slowed down the pace, until my hand was remaining still on his shaft, my fingers still delicately but firmly wrapped around him. He was panting, desperately trying to catch his breath.

"You're sure about that?" I whispered to his ear, never breaking the touch.

And before he could stifle anything between his teeth, I felt his hips unconsciously starting to move against my hand as a silent scream for more, his own body turned against him, contradicting his words.

"Your body tends to betray you." I teased him.

"Shit...Y/N... Please don't stop..." Louis pleaded still reluctantly moving against my hand, instinctively spreading his legs a little wider inviting me to continue.

I was slowly speeding up the pace not to frustrate him any longer when his hand went down to his groin where my hand was already busy working him. He threaded his fingers through mine, and for a second I thought he was going to take my hand off him. Instead, he guided my hand, showing me the way he liked it. A flash of heat ran through me at that sight. He pulled me closer to him initiating another divine kiss, our lips moving as synchronously as our hands did on his lower part. From times to times his lips left mine only for him to whine out instructions in between those exquisite kisses.

"Harder there... yeah, f-faster... shit Y/N, it feels so good..." Louis pleaded softly. The grunts he was no longer trying to hold back added to his hand getting looser on mine were telling me everything I needed to know, he was on the brink of the abyss, leaving me alone in charge of his pleasure.

And before I could push him over the edge of a precipice of pleasure, he grabbed my wrist, leaving me unable to touch him.

I stared at him, confused as to why he had stopped me. He caught his breath, still holding my wrist before starting to kiss my neck. 

 

"Do you only know how many times I imagined this moment?" He asked, placing soft and teasing kiss on my collarbone. I swallowed hard slightly shaking my head.

"An embarrassingly high number of times." He admitted before placing a kiss so warm and so long on my neck I could feel my skin redden under the work of his mouth. "Every time it was different... whether by... the place we were doing it,  the clothes you were wearing... when you wore some... or by the way your moans sounded in my ears." He went on, starting to place kisses all along my arm. "...But there is one thing that never changed..." He kissed my wrist maintaining eye contact with me all the while. "... where I released." He admitted, sending shivers down my spine. I felt the wetness increase in my panties as he said that. "And you'll excuse me but... it wasn't in between your fingers, under the touch of those delicate hands." He placed a gentle kiss on my hand, his acts teasingly contrasting with his words. He got closer to my lips, his mouth brushing over mine again. "Neither in that divine mouth of yours." Louis finished, brushing my lower lip with his thumb before capturing my lips again.

That was a fight for dominance and even if I had already had won a battle I knew I could lose that war. So I decided to take advantage of him being distracted by my lips to let my hand go down from his cheek to his sensitive muscle.  
And before my hand even left his cheek, he pinned my wrists above my head.  
That was a losing-battle in a war he had already won. 

"Well tried." He smirked against my lips while running his fingers up and down my thigh, slowly but so purposefully.  
"But it's high time..." His fingers dangerously brushed my core as he said that. I licked my lips, my mouth going dry and instinctively opened my legs a bit wider in anticipation for him to finally bring his fingers to my opening. "...I take good care of you." He finished as his hand slid inside my panties and started to stroke me where I ached the most.

My mouth watered, my sex flared into life, like a gas can pouring over a naked flame. A single thought ran through my mind.  
Touch me. 

"Fuck, you're so wet..." He groaned against my mouth as I could feel him pressing his boner tight against my thigh. I gasped at the coming sensation of his firm, warm fingers exploring my wet lips.

But his fingers stayed still as if he were trying to gauge the situation.

My hips instinctively started moving against his hand as a silent plea for more, a plea I was unable to muffle. I watched the grin spreading over his face, the gleam brightening in his eyes when he noticed that this time I was the one whose body was betraying.

"I'll do anything you want me to do to you Y/N, but you have to say it out loud." He whispered teasingly, his eyes fixed on mine, burning with intense desire. It was almost like if he could read my thoughts, understanding what I wanted before it occurred to me.  
My mouth opened. Nothing came out. I was breathless. Light-headed.  

"Say it." He repeated, pressing his fingers on the bundle of nerves that desperately required attention, at the touch of his fingers on my clit the words slipped out of my mouth against my will.

"Louis... stroke me, please." I pleaded as if my salvation depended on his touch. 

A few words. That was all it took for his fingers to intrude the warmth of me and to run along the slit of my outer lips. Louis gently parted my wet lips with skillful manipulation, teasing them apart with his fingers moving up and down before taking the plunge into my wetness as he began to rub my clit in gentle circles. I felt my cheeks become incredibly flushed, and my body being overcome with tingling sensations as he continued to pleasure me. His gaze shifted between my face, trying to decipher any hints on my face of what felt the best, and his own fingers working under the black lace fabric damp with my passionate, burning need for satisfaction. 

"Louis..." I moaned, his name being the only word my lips were able to form.

"Feels good?" He asked low. His tone was different, softer, calmer almost unsure. That was Louis, the Louis who adjusted his glasses on his nose after saying something awkward, the caring Louis, the one I had fell in love with.  
I nodded, any concept of language having left me from the moment he pinned me to the mattress.

His grip on my wrists loosened a bit more every time his name escaped my mouth in a lustful whine or every time my hips brushed his bare groin, I let my hands escaped his hold to touch him even if I knew deep in my mind I would never be able to touch enough of him. He flinched at the sensation of my hands traveling up and down his chest, but was way too absorbed in his task to notice. 

 

"You're dripping... you're so wet for me..." He muttered before pulling me in a long deep kiss, his fingers never stopping from tracing soft circles on my clit, each one of them pushing me closer to the edge.

"Only for you, Louis." I managed to answer within the kiss, ignoring the consequences of those simple words on him, and by doing so, on me. Ignoring that it would bring him back, Louis, the Louis that had pinned me to that mattress, the Louis I was falling in love with.

"Fuck. I want you so freaking bad." He swore in a low growl against my lips, pushing two fingers inside me. I gasped against his mouth, reaching for air. I could feel how wet I was against his fingers. He began sliding his fingers in and out of me. I moaned passionately into his mouth, as he penetrated my aching entrance with his fingers.

"Louis... that's so good..." I whined, unable to focus on the burning kiss he was granted me of.

"You're going to make me come saying that..." He retorted smirking against my lips, his breathing as uneven as mine.

"Louis..." I moaned again, unable to know if I had done it unconsciously or not.

"Shit... Y/N..." And as reward, he led me to a higher level of pleasure, his lips never leaving mine, his fingers never stopping their scrumptious endeavor. His fingers located the sensitive spot of which my salvation depended on and curled up against it pressing in softly, all the while using his thumb to encircle the base of my clit.

The feel of his callous thumb teasing and tweaking my clit made me let out a long awaited sigh. That new pace was too much, way too much. His thumb softly circling on my bud, his fingers sliding in and out of me pressing on my sensitive spot at every comings and goings, his moans echoing in my ears, his lips attacking mine tirelessly, his boner pressed almost painfully against my thigh reminding me that he was as affected as I was by all of that. Every one of those details pushed me inexorably toward the epitome of pleasure.

"Louis... L-Louis, I'm gonna..." I stammered, my mind overwhelmed by the pleasure he was offering me. 

"That's it... Y/N, come for me." He whispered against my mouth, his fingers never stopping from penetrating me, my clit under the control of his thumb. He was grinding on my thigh, his boner pressing in at the same pace as his fingers were entering me, his gaze still shifting from my face to his hand that probably ached from the burning of the drag of my panties.

His fingers entered me, curled up on my spot pressing in with more insistence this time, his thumb still rubbing my clit. With a precision I wasn't even able to acknowledge myself, he manipulated the spongy bundle of flesh until I couldn't hold back any longer. And with one last pump of his fingers entering in me, in one last pressure on my pleasure spot, in one last circle of his thumb on my clit, he sent me over the edge and I shattered in a keening wave of pleasure.

My chest tightened. My breath caught in my throat. I felt the orgasm begin to unfold me, bigger, louder, and more intense than anything I had ever felt in my life. I bucked and writhed on the bed, wave after wave of pleasure overtaking me. It seemed to last for endless minutes. He grabbed me and pulled me into him, forcing my face against his in a passionate kiss when he felt myself clenching around his fingers, never breaking the pace. I moaned into his mouth, the sound of my pleasure dampened by his tongue. My entire body rocked and shuddered. I lost control of myself. I could feel his fingers still moving in and on me as he drove me further over the edge, as if he wanted me to fully enjoy it, not to leave an ounce of my ecstasy go to waste.

I cried out his name, my lips still locked against his before slowly falling back to earth from the outer reaches of space, among stars and comets. 

"That's right Y/N, I want the neighbors to know who's making you come." He whispered in my ear as I slowly recovered control.

His fingers were brushing my oversensitive clit. He knew it and let his fingers stroke me but softer, warmer, gentler than before, granting me of a remnant of orgasm every time he came in contact with the bundle of nerves. He finally took his wet fingers out of my panties, which caused me to shudder and before I could ponder further about why he hadn't taken them off yet, he offered me another mesmerizing view.

He licked them, tasting me. Eyes fixed on mine, daring me to look away. I didn't.

Louis stood over me, his arms resting on either side of my head, as pure and perfect as a monument, admiring my body. I laid there surrendering my instincts as his mouth kisses my neck, slowly nibbling it, tasting it, his hand rushing over my stomach as it slid up to cup my breast, making me moan at the feel of his soft hand grabbing and kneading them.

I felt like I was drowning, I had just regained breath after a wave of pleasure that had let me panting, my vision blurry, my legs shaking, and he was already throwing me in another sea of pleasure.

I felt him pull away as he continued to make his way along my body. I could feel his tongue rolling lazily over the valley between my breasts followed by his hands, until my stomach stopping before he got to my underwear. Louis looked up at me as our eye's met, that satisfied smile once again spread across his face. My hand instinctively moved to the top of his head as I ran my fingers through his silky brown hair, his tongue continued to run over the lace fabric as he moved further down between my legs. I felt the pressure from his tongue pressing into my slit from the outside of my panties.

He wasn't throwing me in another sea of pleasure but in an ocean, in all the oceans of the globe, in all the oceans Poseidon had under his watch and more... 

I shuddered and moaned as I felt his tongue leave that warm spot; he then moved his head back up to the top of my underwear. He once again smiled but this time, he grabbed the edge of my panties with his teeth and pulled them down my legs in one swift movement. I felt them slide past my ankles to join the rest of my apparel on the bedroom floor.

Staring at each knee, he took hold of each of my legs pushing them apart as he slowly planted kisses along my inner thighs, moving himself upwards as he worked his way closer towards my wet triangle. A great shiver of excitement ran through me as it got harder and harder to keep my hands of off him.

"I've been dreaming of tasting you since you walked into that prison yard in that tight dress of yours." Louis growled low against my belly, and then his mouth was on me.

 

His hands held my hips, my legs wide open, and I felt his tongue brush my folds, sliding over their slick heat, tasting me. A rippling shudder of desire cascaded over me. He licked the sides of my sex, exploring each soft fold. His tongue found my core and pressed into me. I panted as he thrust with his tongue. His tongue stroked out of my core and back in again. I moaned as his tongue found my clit and my hips rose off the bed. My clit succumbing to his tongue's charms, offering to my bud a whole new kind of pleasure, softer, warmer, wetter than the ecstasy his fingers brought me to. He alternated between flicking my clit with his tongue rapidly and moving it in circles.

When Louis growled low in his throat with pleasure, I felt it against my sex. The rippling shock waves of pleasure became a tidal wave, and I twisted my hands in his hair, pulling his face against my sex.

"Yes... Louis, right there please..." I moaned when he flicked his tongue against the nub of my clit, and I could have sworn I felt him smirk against my core.

He then enthusiastically licked and sucked away at my clit as all the pleasure continued to build. The more I moaned and demanded, the faster his tongue worked rubbing my clitoris in gentle circles as waves of pleasure continued to pass through me. Flicking against my clit, then rubbing in circles and swiping hard with his tongue when my hips jerked in response. The steady stream of words died. I needed him. Needed more. With each passing second, my wetness increased as well as the motions running through my body, with every movement his tongue made. I trembled with pleasure as the intensity of it all increased dramatically.

"Louis... I-I'm so close..." The second those words slipped out of my mouth, his tongue left my womanhood.

Icarus.

The Greek myth of a young man who ignoring his father's instructions flew too close to the sun, melting by doing so his wax wings and tumbled out of the sky falling right into the ocean where he drowned.  
I was Icarus, and he was my wings, bringing me down to earth the second I felt the sun irradiating my face. The higher you climb, the harder you fall... in my case in his ocean eyes as his voice stirred me out from my thoughts.

"Sorry about... that. I-I just can't get the idea of you coming while I'm inside you out of my mind."

He muttered as he came back up from between my legs, licking around his mouth at my juices, and began to massage my breasts again, grabbing and pulling at my nipples sending my head back and my back up in an arch as I moaned at the feel of his strong hands.

He seemed tireless and for a second it occurred to me that maybe he feared not being good enough after three years as a convict, I was the first woman he was touching after what probably felt for him like an eternity. From that moment, holding moans wasn't an option anymore, I wanted him to know how good he made me feel, I wanted him to know that no man before him had touched me like he did. 

I fought back an urge to press my bare womanhood against his member, but he beat me to it. We held each other tight, completely bare, needing the press of skin to skin, lips to lips, without any barriers.

"God, Y/N, you're so beautiful..." Louis muttered breaking the kiss to let his eyes wander on my body. His voice held a note of awe, and heat washed through me, he looked at me, seeing me, and his gaze was scorching.

I just couldn't get enough, couldn't be satisfied. Louis' sweet, ardent passion was exactly what I wanted. That was what I was born for. That was what I would die for. His hands caught my hips and brought my legs around him, and he was hard, so hard. All I wanted was to release the control I kept over my body, let the fierce, hot desire wash over me, wash over him. I needed his touch, I needed him inside me driving for release, both his and mine. Not sex. Any man could have given me that. I wanted Louis, his smile that melted my heart, as well as his passion that melted the ice. He could dominate me, he could worship me, he could control me or let me take charge. He could take me any way he wanted, sacred and forbidden as long as he took me. 

"I want you Louis. I want to feel you inside me." I breathed out. I saw a thin layer of confidence peel off when I pronounced those words. He froze, his lips remaining still on my breast. He swallowed hard before he brought himself to cross my gaze.

"You-you're sure?" He asked on a diffident tone, as he tried to detect any hints of uncertainty in my Y/EC eyes.

"Louis, ye-" I started before he interrupted me.

"Y/N, if we do this... you're mine." He pointed out avoiding my gaze. He had expected refusal, not to have his bluff called. A part of him was convinced that this moment was nothing more than physical, that it would end as fast as it had begun. But I was done playing, I wanted him, there and then. I loved him and wanted to be his, body and soul.

"Louis... That's all I ever wanted." I affirmed, softly caressing his cheek. I could see him bite his inner cheek to hold back a smile, but as usual his eyes said it all.  
His eyebrow dug down and I saw desire winning the war that was taking place in the mazes of his mind. I could feel the decision clicking into place.

"This is going to be fast and hard." He started, leaning down to kiss me. "You don't know the effect you have on me, Y/N. I've wanted you since I laid eyes on you. I don't think I can last too long... at least not the first time."  
My eyes lit up at the mention of 'the first time', hoping that meant there was going to be several more times after that.

I pulled him towards me, sharing a long kiss, shuddering with erotic anticipation. I felt like I had been on the precipice of an orgasm for hours.

He started rubbing the tip of his hard member against my clit in a way that felt so good, my bones dissolved and my hands moved to either side of his neck to hold on, so I didn't melt.  
His thick head brushed my sex and I groaned softly. His manhood was almost as hot as my sex.

Louis' lips were slightly open as he thrust into me, watching my face as he guided his length into me. I touched his arms and watched the intense concentration in his face as he gently pushed forward and pulled back, filling me over and over. It felt perfect. Beyond perfect. I gasped, a sharp, sudden intake of breath, as my yearning entrance opened, stretched, to accommodate him. It felt like he went on forever. Inch after delicious, bare, inch buried deep inside me as I let out a low intense groan of satisfaction. He completely filled me, his member touching every part of my insides.

"So wet..." He murmured, sounding thrilled about the fact. I was more than ready for him as he slid himself into me with one smooth thrust. His patience clearly over, he thrust deeply, a curse leaving his lips.  
"Fuck, Y/N you feel so good," he said, struggling to hold on. "So warm... So tight..."

"Louis..." I moaned feeling my lips part and open, receiving his thickness. My body melting in the furnace of our lust as he kept his gaze on me, watching me, enjoying my blissful torment. "It feels so good..."

"So freaking good." He groaned with need... or maybe agony, and I couldn't help but love the sound.

His shaft was slick with my excitement, getting wetter with every tiny movement. My velvet folds gripped his hard length, caressing him, teasing him. Louis breathed hard, looking at me with his hungry green eyes, eyes so filled with love and desire that my heart almost burst. He ground against me, skin on skin, pushing himself deeper inside me, as deep as he could get. I opened my legs wider, raising my hips desperate to feel him all the way inside me. He filled me so completely that I could feel him with every fiber of my being. 

I pulled him down onto me and wrapped my arms and legs around him. I loved the feeling of his weight on top of me, pressing against me. I could feel his hips grinding against my body, his groin dragging over my sensitive clit as he penetrated me. I bit his neck and shoulders overwhelmed by animalistic pleasure.

"It's been so long..." He moaned, almost as a whisper.

He started to make love to me, slowly, gently, passionately. His hips rocked and bucked while Louis kissed me, our lips meeting in a brief, sensual union that sent tingles through my body. His length glided in and out of my wet, aching sex. My womanhood gripped and squeezed his shaft with every movement, sending erotic thrills cascading through both of us. I moaned softly, breathing hard, gripping his back with my hands. I rolled my hips to meet his slow thrusts. His passion rocked my body, as though he couldn't get enough of me, as though he needed to drive himself deeper and deeper inside me. He started to speed up, a little fire igniting behind his beautiful eyes. He leant on one arm and squeezed my breasts with the other hand.

"Harder..." I moaned my voice thick with passion.  
Louis grinned at me and picked up the pace a little more, my body rocking harder with each successive thrust. I kept moving my hips to meet him, as he filled my body with lust. I gripped him tight, my fingers digging into his flesh. He gritted his teeth with the effort of staying in control, pumping his hips to get farther inside me, each stroke so deep, so perfect. His pelvis slid across my clit with each movement, making me cry out each time. His body showed me just how much I had been missing out on, his skilled moves giving me more pleasure that I had ever experienced before. His lips found mine, not gentle this time but rough and frantic. He sucked and nibbled on my lower lip as I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck and lifted my hips up to meet each passionate thrust.

The bed protested, a rhythmic creaking sound could be heard amidst the sound of Louis' pleasured sounds. I gripped onto the bed sheets, trying to hold on, as I felt my build up already coming on. It felt incredible. His size. His stamina. The intricacies of decisions that had led us, there and then. I was on the edge, I could feel it and Louis could too because he reached down and played with my clit.

 

He didn't slow down or ease up. He kept penetrating me, maintaining a steady, careful rhythm.

"Louis... I... I'm close..." The words died in my throat as the tidal wave started to crash over me, my body flooding with pleasure so intense it left me breathless and shaking.

"Come on, Y/N" He murmured as he started to drive into me with long, hard strokes. He started going faster and his grunts were getting louder and more out of control. His breathing was ragged, and he was working furiously to get us to that point together.

His movements grew frantic, his flesh slapping against mine, and I hovered on the razor-sharp edge where pressure crest, making everything in my body go taut and tight. My mouth opened in a silent scream as my body rocked and shuddered with the power of that second orgasm. Violent shuddered rip through me, and my hips snapped up, meeting him thrust for thrust as I came, the pressure breaking and sweeping me away in a flood of pleasure. Louis was watching me, his gaze dark and unfocused as I writhed, his breathing ragged.

"Fuck... you're so beautiful when you come..." He panted, hands digging into my hips.  
His hips were snapping against me in a frenzy as he neared his release. I was still recovering from my own orgasm and all I could do was look up at him in wonder as he slammed into me over and over again, little waves of pleasure still shooting through me.

"I'm getting close... Shit Y/N, make me come for you..." he said, his voice husky with arousal.

He picked up the pace again and took me harder, slamming his body into mine, his length pushing deep inside me. I moaned into his neck. I never thought sex could feel that intense. Finally, I felt his body stiffen against mine. His breathing became fast and shallow. He was about to come.

I was vaguely aware of my own voice screaming with pleasure and the aftershocks were still hitting me when Louis thrust into me one final time. His body went still as he found his release, his member throbbing inside me as his hips jerked in time with his release.

"Y/N..." He buried his face in my neck and groaned as his own orgasm hit. I felt him swelling bigger inside me, I felt the spasms as he pulsed again and again. I felt everything.

He collapsed on the bed on top of me and then rolled to his back, bringing me with him. He was still inside me and I rested my head against his chest and tried to calm my breathing, coming back down to earth.

My body was exhausted in all the right ways. My womanhood felt a little sore, a little swollen. Perfectly used. Perfectly satisfied. My entire body felt satisfied.

I felt his hot breath on my neck. I felt him, warm and solid. Right there. With me. Where I had imagined him to be every day...

"Y/N?"  
I lifted my head to look up at him.

"Please tell me this wasn't a dream... please tell me I'm not going to wake up in my cell." There wasn't a single ounce of humor in his voice, he held me close as if he feared someone would take me away from him.

"Louis... This was real, this is real and..." I took a deep breath before going on. "What I feel for you is real." I told him, trailing my fingers over his chest lazily.

He kissed the top of my head letting out a breath I didn't know he was holding, as if my words were a relief to him.

He took my chin in his hand, forcing me to look into those penetrating eyes. His gaze darted to the side during a second, but long enough for me to notice. Even his eyes couldn't tell me what he was thinking this time. He pressed his lips against mine, his hand roaming all over my body.

 

"I love you, Y/N."

His words freed me, and as he pronounced them I understood that he had always been the one detaining the keys of my cell, the keys of my salvation, from the second I saw him knelt in the dirt in his convict uniform. As soon as he pronounced them, the chains holding my soul where broke to pieces. I never freed him, he did.

"Louis, I love you..." He closed his eyes shut tight, when those words escaped my mouth. His lips stayed still.   
He opened his eyes, looking deeply into mine, as if to find there any hints of lie. His researches were vain.

"Say it again... Please..."

"Louis, je t'aime." I repeated softly, gently caressing his cheek. He placed a soft kiss on my hand as I spoke.

"Good. Now promise me that nothing will ever change that because... I've been sentenced to love you since I laid eyes on you and I'm afraid that is a life-sentence from which not even you could free me of."

"I promise."

_They say that the shortest path between two points is a straight line. But what happens if that path gets blocked? When sediment impedes the flow of a river, it redirects... zigging and zagging instead of following a straight course.  What looks to the crow like meandering, is to the water the most efficient route from source to outlet. Nature finds a detour.  
When two points are destined to touch but a direct connection is impossible... the universe will always find another way. There's an ancient Chinese myth about the Red Thread of Fate. It says that the gods have tied a red thread around every one of our ankles and attached it to all of the people whose lives we are destined to touch. This thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break. And as Louis felt asleep peacefully by my side I understood, he was exactly where he was meant to be, safe, sound and by my side._

 

_Because this was nothing but the will of the gods..._

 

**...**


	12. Jαηυs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very first Louis Dega x Reader fiction.  
> Inspired by Rami Malek in the movie Papillon (2018)
> 
> In ancient mythology, Janus (dʒeɪnəs) the two-faced god is the deity of beginnings, transitions and endings. He is usually depicted with two faces: one looking towards the future, the other one towards the past. Every story has an end, and here is the one Janus whispered in my ear for Champs Elysées…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE, thus please report in the comments any grammar, tense or vocabulary mistakes so that I can correct it asap.
> 
> MATURE RATED: This chapter contains a smut scene
> 
> s4msepiol.  
> no copyright infringement intended.

**_Warning:_ ** _This chapter contains a smut scene._

**_One Year Later_ **

**_Louis' Point of View_ **

 

I used to count the passing days on a notebook. It helped me at keeping a trace, at making sure that all of that wasn't just the invention of my sick mind molested by years in prison. It helped me at making sure that all of that was real, that she was real... Still, I lost count every time my eyes met hers, understanding that the day the judge had declared me guilty had never been the end of anything, just the beginning of something else. And the three years I had spent as a convict seemed then like a reasonable, almost necessary, tribute to pay to spend the rest of my days by her side. 

Every single thing that composed my little routine, things that were not so long before utterly foreign to me, seemed then indispensable to the proper functioning of my being. Her perfume on the pillows in the morning, the smell of hot coffee and fresh bread for breakfast, the stolen kisses in the office hallways, her head on my shoulder on the way home, the myriad of nights spent laughing, drinking, dancing with Gaspard, the sound of our moans filling the room every night, her sweet embrace stirring me out of my nightmares. Every single of those things were vital for me then, as an organ which absence, I knew, would have let me dead on the floor.  

Nightmares... one more affliction to which Y/N was my antidote. There was a time that my thoughts had become tormentors, a torture that had for only relief, sleep... which had become fleeting. But then I realized that if I never replied, if I let them float by then in time they would cease. At first, they became a little worse, yet soon they ebbed, thanks to her. One day I noticed they were gone and just the noticing brought them back a little, but only a faint echo of what they had been. They had been gone, for a long time then, those terrifying thoughts. Just like any bully, they go when ignored. Just like any bully, they go once you're not alone anymore.

I snapped out of my thoughts at the voice of an angel:

 

"I want your reports on my desk by next week. Thank you for your attention, I'll see you all on Monday." Y/N concluded, putting an end to a long week of work.

One year had passed since the day I had first crossed the doors of that office, since the evening our lips had first touched, since the night our bodies had first united. Still, I was having a hard time at believing she was mine, and I was hers. Even more in the middle of that meeting room, among male colleagues whose eyes lingered more on her perfect curves than on the pie chart of that semester results. I hid my clenched fists under the table and kept in mind that I was the one she loved, I was the one she had crossed an ocean for, I was the one who would fall asleep by her side that night... and suddenly every shred of jealousy left my body as two delicate arms encircled my neck... 

"Everything okay, mon coeur? You've been zoning out all day..." Y/N asked me, worried. That was one of the many things I would probably never get used to. She had saved my life, saving me from what I still considered like hell on earth, she had offered me a job, a home and more important than anything her heart. Still, she never stopped from worrying about me, the only thing betraying her being the few French words that escaped her whenever she was worried, sad, happy... aroused.

 

"Oui, ma belle... I'm just... still having a hard time at realizing how lucky I am." I said, softly caressing her cheek. She leant into my touch.

"Hey, Louis... We already talked about that. You deserve every ounce of it, you more than anyone else and I'll be there to remind you of it every time you'll doubt of it." She reassured me, placing her hand on top of mine before placing a gentle kiss on my palm.

"What have I done to deserve you Y/N?"

She captured my lips in a delightful and exquisite kiss in response. I fell in love with her all over again every time our lips brushed.

"You still haven't answered my question." I insisted with a soft smile as my voice echoed in the empty meeting room.

"I'm pretty sure Gaspard should be able to find your charge sheet somewhere..." She joked while tightening my tie. "Let's go home, mon beau." Home, if only she knew that my home was wherever she was, as long as I'd be by her side, I'd be home.

****...** **

**_Your Point of View_ **

 

Louis pushed open the door, kissing me hard, openmouthed, tongue slipping gently in. He had just broken every speeding limit known to man in his rush to get us back to our apartment and had barely had the wherewithal to close the door when we finally got home.

"God... you're beautiful... I can't believe I get to take you whenever I want." Louis whispered roughly within the kiss, unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, the other one clasped gently on the back of my head.

He had been pleasuring me non-stop since we had left the office and just barely made it into the apartment before stripping each other of our clothes.

"I want you Louis, now." I growled dragging him to the kitchen by his tie, never breaking the kiss.

At those words his control broke instantly, his arms lifting me onto the kitchen counter, cleaning off the surface of the counter with a snarl. Louis kissed me hard, his tongue driving into my mouth, his left hand pushing up my dress and his right starting to unbuckle his belt at the same time.

 

"Shit... I've been wanting to touch you all day... I don't know what held me from pleasuring you on that meeting table... in front of all those pigs ogling you from head to toe..." He admitted, between placing kisses on my neck and collarbone. I ran my hand through his brown hair, a sultry smile plastered to my face. Louis had always been a talker. Of course, that talent had done him more damage than good, considering where it had led him. Still, his rhetoric was one of my favorite things about him, because it was one of the few things that even years in jail hadn't changed.

"I'm yours, Louis. Nobody else's." I whispered in his ear, palming him through his pants, his mouth granting me of that "o" shape I loved so much. "But next time... don't hold yourself back." I went on, unbuttoning his pants.

Breathing hard, he leant against the counter and watched me slowly unzip his pants. I peeled them down along with his boxers, then put my hands on him, appreciating how thick he was. Louis didn't take his eyes off me, smiling impishly as he readjusted his glasses. I wrapped my hands around the base of his shaft, purposely licking my lips and brought him to my lips. I leant forward, sucking the ripe head into my mouth, making him gasp, his hands clenching on my shoulders. I let my tongue caress his tip slowly and then dragged it up and down his length, making him wait until that moment when I wrapped my lips around him completely.

"Y/N..." He moaned, jerking his hips forward encouraging me to take him. That only sight made me wet.

I wrapped my lips around his member, moving my head to take more of his length in. I swirled my tongue around his shaft, wanting to make it hot and warm for him.

"Fuck... that feels so good..." He panted as I sucked on his length, his hips starting to make jerky little movements. I moaned at his words, feeling the wetness pool between my legs. There was nothing that aroused me more than going down on him, knowing how much control I could have over his pleasure, knowing how much I could affect him. I placed my hands on his thighs, bracing myself as I took him all the way into my mouth. He cried out when my nose touched the soft hairs that covered where his length began. I pulled back and started to lick slowly at the tip, running the pad of my tongue over the slit of his muscle. 

"You taste so good, mon beau..." I whimpered, feeling my own need start to reach its peak between my legs. His hips thrusted slightly into my mouth, inviting me to take more of him.

"Y/N... Je t'en prie, don't stop..." I felt my inner walls clench in response to his statement. His hands were braced on my head as his member seemed to, impossibly somehow, get bigger and harder.

"Mmh..." I hummed against his shaft, sending by doing so vibrations throughout his entire body, triggering without knowing it his most primal instincts...

"Fuck it, I want to be inside you."

Louis got me off my knees, lifted me back onto the counter, spreading my legs wide as he took position between them. His left hand pulled down my panties as his right grasped my hip. I sucked in my breath as his hand hovered dangerously close to the place where I wanted him most, resting on my inner thigh. Just the thought of what he could do to me, the anticipation of his touch had my lower belly clenching in desire.

"It makes me crazy seeing some other man looking at you... It just makes me want to claim you as my own... over and over again..." He whispered to my ear, punctuating every one of his sentences with a soft, yet so exquisite, circle on my clit. I couldn't help the small moans that escaped me as he started to circle my clit, flicking the pad of his thumb over it slowly and applying just the right amount of pressure.

"Louis..." I sighed, running my hands through his dark coal waves as he restlessly pleasured my bundle of nerves. Louis buried his face in my neck, his teeth pricking me as he kissed me.

"Y/N..." He groaned, interrupting the incessant assaults of his lips on my neck. "You're mine..." He growled, running his finger against my entrance, making me squirm with need. I nodded, letting my body language speak for itself.

...and I'm yours." And at those words, he pushed himself inside me.

Louis brought me against him hard, the sudden deep penetration bringing a deep moan from my lips. With a growl of satisfaction, he held me there, his head thrown back, his eyes closed and lips parted, his chest heaving as he moved. It was almost too much, and yet my only desire was to be utterly filled by him, to have that delightful stroking go on until I could stand it no longer. I wrapped my legs around him, pushing my hips tighter to his. His long length, already surely buried, slid in another inch, drawing a long moan of pleasure from my throat. Louis snapped his head down, locking his green eyes with mine.

 

"You know I love you right?" I nodded.

 

"Good." Louis ran his finger on my lower lip before bending his head to my ear.

 

"Cause I have every attention of fucking you like I don't." He whispered as he bore down hard, his one last unsheathed inch sliding inside me.

He started to pleasure me with slow and deep thrusts that had me approaching my release almost instantly. The force of his hips pounding into me moved me further up the counter. Louis captured my lips as he bore down again and again, rubbing my clit with the top of his shaft, his long buried length massaging my sensitive walls.

"Fuck... You're always so wet and tight for me, ma belle." Louis mumbled against my hair, letting his lips find their way to my neck and his hips their way to my womanhood.

"Louis..." was all I could mutter as liquid fire burst through my veins. I could feel his grin against my neck.

"You like that, ma belle." He panted, pushing in again. He didn't ask, he just knew. Louis had studied my body like a painter studies his muse since we first got together.

"You want it harder." He added as his pace started to pick up, again not questioning or guessing, just knowing. In seconds, he adopted a furious pace that had my back arching off the counter. A chill ran down my spine at the loss of contact with the cold marble.

"God... Louis, that feels so good..." I moaned as he started to swivel his hips, so I could feel every inch of him. 

I gave up trying to keep myself propped up on my elbows and fell back on the counter, glancing up at the image of my legs wrapped around Louis' waist as he started to pound into me at a faster pace. I gripped on the edge of the counter, trying to hold on, as I felt my build up coming on.

"Je sais, mon coeur, I know... God, you feel so freaking good..." Louis snarled, his movements becoming purposeful as he thrust repeatedly, straining as he buried his firm flesh in mine. I whimpered in pleasure, the complete stimulation of his stroking making me shudder.

His grunts, my gasps of pleasure and the sound of our skin slapping together filled the room, and before I could realize it he grabbed my breast, squeezing it roughly before dropping his hand back down between my legs.

"You see what you do to me?" He groaned, shifting his hips, so he started hitting me at a new angle. His grip on me tightened as he reached down to rub my clit, making me see stars. "How much I love seeing you like this as I take you, Y/N?" He panted, his hips beating against mine in a frenzy. With each word, my arousal increased. His tone was so deep, so rough that it made me certain of his desire for me as well as the fact that he wasn't the holy, innocent figure I had once thought. 

"Come on, ma belle." He murmured as he started to drive into me with long, hard strokes. He kissed my throat, then shuddered, driving faster.  
With one last thrust, I felt the orgasm come over me, waves of pleasure magnifying and flooding every cell of my body. My entire body tensed, white hot flames shooting through me until everything snapped and I completely lost it, the world shattering around me. Louis covered my mouth with his, muffling my cries. As my orgasm ebbed, he drew back to watch me, continuing to slide himself into me to the hilt, again and again, little waves of pleasure still shooting through me. And as dominoes, my fall precipitated his. 

"Shit... Y/N... I'm gonna..." He whispered roughly, hands digging into my hips. His breath came in quick pants on my throat as he drove in faster. Louis kissed me roughly, and came a second later, pumping into me, letting out deep moans as he emptied the last of his semen. With a regretful sigh, he pulled out of me, breathing hard. He collapsed against me, his weight pushing the air from my lungs. I wrapped my arms around him and held him close, never wanting to let him go.

We stayed quiet for a long while, each of us catching our breath and coming down from our highs. I couldn't help but smile at the sight of the situation, the content of the fruit basket scattered on the floor, my dress pushed up to my hips, his pants pushed down to his ankles.

"Happy birthday, Y/N." His voice stirred me out of my torpor. I felt him smile against my chest.

"Happy birthday, Louis." I chuckled against his hair before placing a soft kiss on his head.

Louis gently helped me off the counter and gave me a lingering kiss. That kiss was so pure, so soft, so chaste that for a second I thought I had imagined it. Our foreheads resting again each other, he locked his eyes with mine:

 

"I love you so much... that it hurts, Y/N." He said, pulling me into another kiss...

****...** **

I had just finished my shower and stood in front of our bedroom mirror, struggling with the zip of my dress when the reflection of Louis leaning against the door frame and watching me caught my attention.

 

He slowly got closer, yet what he did caught me off guard.

 

He slowly unzipped my dress until it fell to the floor, placing warm kisses along my neck and shoulders. A chill ran down my spine as I felt his fingers run on my naked body until his hands settled on my hips. I watched him attacking my shoulders in the mirror, fighting against myself not to close my eyes at the exquisite sensation of Louis' lips on my skin. 

 

"I should paint you like that..." Louis stated kissing my shoulders, never breaking the contact of our eyes through the reflection of the mirror. "... the light and shadows on your curves..." He brushed my breasts. "... the sparkle in your eyes..." He was thinking out loud, running his fingers on my body as he would run his brush on the canvas.

"Le tout-Paris would scramble to get a paint signed by your hand, Louis..." I managed to whisper, reminding him that I was ready to finance whatever he would need to dedicate himself to his passion, full-time. He smirked at my words, but I couldn't tell if I had seen it in the mirror or felt it against my skin...

"We already talked about that, mon amour. My life is perfect the way it is: going to work, going home, drawing whenever I feel the need to... all of that with you. That's all I ever dreamt of. My art... that's something I want to share with no one but you..." Louis explained, placing a kiss on my neck. "But if one day I were to change my mind... this work of art..." He showed my naked body in the mirror. "... would be a paint I'd keep in my private collection." He finished before turning me to him and capturing my lips. 

 

"You still haven't told me where we're going tonight." I stated, once we broke the kiss for some much-needed air.

"Somewhere where I'll have the pleasure of your company..." He stopped for a second and smiled. "... over a glass of good wine, with the Eiffel tower behind us." He finished, quoting the words I had had at a moment I had thought losing him forever.

"I'll better get ready then..." I said heading to my closet before a sudden realization stopped me. "Louis, a letter has arrived for you this morning. It's on your desk, read it." 

"I'm sorry Mademoiselle but this will have to wait after the dinner I'm planning to share with you... We're already late by the way." He retorted, with that devastating smile of his as he adjusted the collar of his shirt.

I pulled up his chin for him to look at me. "Go read it. Now. I'll wait for you." I insisted, knowing that he would thank me later for that.

"Will you?"

"I've been waiting my entire life for you Mr. Louis Dega." I noted as I encircled my arms around his neck before kissing him hungrily...

**_Louis' Point of View_ **

I froze at the sight of the name on the envelope on my desk. I got rid of it with trembling fingers and gathered my thoughts to read the piece of paper I had in hands. My heart tugged in anticipation, that sensation dangerously contrasting with the one I had felt just an hour before. I readjusted my glasses, took a deep breath and started reading.

_Mon cher Dega,_

_If one day someone had told me that I'd be sitting where I'm sitting, writing what I'm writing... to you; I would have had pity for the man who would have dared coming to me and talking such bullshit. I wanted to write to you, I really did. But life being what it is, I didn't know what to tell you or even if you wanted to read it._

_One year has passed my friend, since we left that place. For good._  
_I guess, in a stupid attempt to reassure myself, that it hasn't been easy for you neither. I dreamt (poor choice of word, I know), of it every night at the beginning, of my cell, of the screams, of the pain. I woke up screaming, panting in the dark night, wondering how dumb we had been for thinking, even for a second, that it would be easy, that getting out of there would suffice._  
_We were dead there, and death is easy. It's life, that is hard._

_From times to times, I must admit it, I wished we had never left that place. Only because in a way it's easier to obey than to take control. After all, hadn't they made sure that even the concept of freedom disappear from our minds? But every time that death wish occurred to me, it vanished as soon as Nenette's lips brushed mine. And on those nights I hoped for you to have her by your side, because I know that those women Dega are the only persons in the world able to keep our demons away..._

_Y/N and I have been writing to each other for a while. She gave me news about you, I sent her signs of life. Don't be upset, I made her promise not to tell you anything. I told you, I didn't know what to tell you or even if you wanted to read it. She loves you Dega, deeply. How do I know that? A fool always recognizes another. And trust me, it takes madness to appreciate your forger ass... Anyway, I'm digressing. Y/N thinks that I should be the one announcing it to you, so here I am... rewriting that letter for the umpteenth time. Nenette and I would like to invite the two of you this summer, here in Bourgogne. Nothing but the four us, some good wine and the fresh air of the country side._

_Finally, if you were to honor this invitation (that isn't even an option), I'd like to present you someone..._

 

_My daughter. Louise Y/N Charrière, that Nenette and I named after her godfather and godmother..._

_Don't waste your second chance Dega, our place was not out there. It has never been. Write me, you've always been better than I with words._

_I'm looking forward to seeing you again, my old friend._

_Papillon._

I stayed there silent, readjusting my glasses in a vain attempt to regain my composure as I watched my teardrops smear the ink of Papi's words. And to think I had thought he had forgotten me... He had found everything he was looking for, and in a way his happiness contributed to mine. I smiled reading and rereading his words, brushing the thin white paper as to feel the movements of the pen that had written them down.

I had one friend, Henri 'Papillon' Charrière. A thief that had been convicted of a murder he had not committed. I had always hated thieves, I know, cynical coming from a former forger, but Papi was different, in all the possible ways. After all this time, he proved me, once again, that we were more alike than I thought, the only difference between us being that I was more of a city man whereas he was more of a countryside man, and in terms of artistic inspiration, believe me, he had the advantage.

And to think I had thought he had forgotten me... He hadn't. He had just acted as he had always done it in jail, watching me from far away a cigarette in between his lips, only intervening once fear paralyzed my members, once blood froze in my veins from terror, once I really needed him...

 

And trust me, that was how I felt standing in front of my dresser, trying to regain my composure before joining my muse waiting for me at the door. That was how I felt as his words echoed in my mind, as my left hand brushed the note he had given me before leaving one year before, as my eyes stared at the diamond ring waiting serenely in its box...

 

I took a deep breath, put the box in my suit pocket, close to my heart and joined my muse...  ** _secretly hoping that it would be the last time she would walk on the Champs Elysées with her bare ring finger..._**

 


End file.
